Geronimo Stilton: INTERPOL-The Christmas Chase
by Malaysianpro
Summary: A sequel to Geronimo Stilton:INTERPOL-The Beginning. The Crew sets on another adventure in New Mouse City. On the way back from a Christmas Eve dinner, Danial Arif comes across two street racers dangerously driving on the snowy roads. To stop anymore from happening, Thea Stilton goes undercover into an underground racing league. Will The Crew stop them or will they be outran?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am back! I told ya I'll be back! Heheh, wassup bros and gals? Malaysianpro here! Here to bring you a Christmas special! Wait, is it too late for me? Nah! I hope you guys enjoy this! And if you're a new reader and just about to understand the canon of this series, feel free to check out my previous works. Bahye!**

**Disclaimer**

**I do not own Geronimo Stilton. I own plot and OCs though!**

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><p><strong>Geronimo Stilton: Interpol-The Christmas Chase <strong>

**Chapter 1**

**Malk**

**The Arif Estate, 107 Richmond Drive**

** Quarter mile outside of New Mouse City**

**Wednesday, December 24, 2013 (Christmas Eve)**

**7.30 p.m.**

It has been a few months since my last and first big adventure with the Gazette gang. I've settled in my new home, stored all the cars that went loose all over New Mouse City, and had built all my essentials into my house by myself in in only a few months.

It was Christmas Day, the outside was snowing and I was enjoying hot chocolate alone in my new mansion's living room as I saw the snowplow drove by on the street, clearing up the snow on the road. My fireplace was lit, I sat by the fire on my easy chair, feeling cozy as the red sweater that Aunt Sweetfur knitted kept my body temperature at a constant thirty-four degrees Celsius.

Don't ask me why, but only my mansion and in the street and possibly the only home in NMC that wasn't decorated with lights, reindeers, or any other Christmas decorations. It's because I don't celebrate Christmas. I'll give you a hint: I'm a Malaysian. Please don't hate me for this.

And do pardon me for not doing an intro of myself. My name is Danial Arif, a 14-year old multi-billionaire former software designer for Apple Inc., video games developer, an Interpol Junior Special Agent, and a special corespondent for NMC's most 'famouse' newspaper and media, The Rodent's Gazette, a subsidiary of the Stilton Media Group. I'm also an orphan and the first human to ever reside in the city.

Just this morning, my friends and I at the Gazette were having a dilemma, over just how to say the word 'milk'. The next lines you'll read are wrote in dialogue form.

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><p><strong>Break room, The Rodent's Gazette<strong>

**10.45 a.m.**

(Thea rummages through the fridge to find something to drink while Danny and Trap sit at the break table in front of the fridge.)

Danny: Hey Trap, do we have something for me to drink?

Trap: Yeah, in the fridge. (Points at fridge)

Danny: Hey Thea, grab me a glass of milk. (Pronounced as malk)

Thea: We don't have any 'malk', but I can get you some 'milk'. (Turns to Danny)

Trap: That's...what he just said.

Danny: Yeah, I just want some malk.

Thea: (Closes fridge and turns to the two) Nah, you're saying it wrong; you're saying 'MALK' like its a disease.

Trap: (Giggles) How do you say it?

Thea: (Leans on fridge with can of Mountain Dew in paw) I'm saying it like everyone oughta say it, 'milk', M-I-L-K.

Trap: Yeah, like two percent.

Danny: Yeah, like wholemalk.

Thea: N-n-n-no, say 'milkshake'.

Danny: (Shrugs) Milkshake. (Pronounces normally)

Thea: Now say, 'milk'.

Danny: (Shrugging) Malk.

Thea: (Stares at Danny, felling annoyed. Then turns to Trap) Are you hearing this? (Extends arm to Danny)

Trap: Yeah. The man wants a glass of 'maulk'.

Thea: (Drops arm in disgust) Mulk?

Trap: GIVE HIM THE MAULK, THEA! (Imperiously demands)

Geronimo: (Steps into the break room and interrupts) Trap, inside voices please.

Trap: Sorry, G... (Geronimo walks out, holding temples)

Danny: (Yells) THEA! POUR ME, A GLASS, OF MALK!

Thea: Why are you yelling at me?

Trap: Just give him the freakin' maulk!

Thea: You're not even saying the same thing!

Danny: We're all saying malk, THEA!

Thea: You're saying malk! (Points to Trap) You're saying-

Trap: (Screams annoyingly) MAAALK!

Danny: MALK!

Trap: MAAALLK!

Danny: MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLK-

Thea: (Annoyed, pulls out gun, points to both) SHUT UP! SHUT! UP! (Points gun to head)

(Trap and Danny both pull out their guns)

Trap: Put the gun down, Thea!

Danny: Don't-don't do it, Thea!

Thea: You're gonna shoot me if I shoot myself? THAT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE!

(Trap and Danny glanced at each other, thinking the same thing. Points own guns to heads)

Danny: PUT THE GUN DOWN!

Thea: PUT YOUR GUNS AWAY!

Trap: THEA, PUT IT DOWN, NOW! (Sobbing)

Thea: I'M GONNA KILL MYSELF OVER THIS!

Danny: (Sobbing) YOU'RE LIKE A SISTER TO ME!

Thea: PUT YOUR GUN DOWN!

Danny: YOUR PAW IS LIKE A SISTER TO ME!

Thea: AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!

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><p>"Then we pull the trigger. All of us," Thea suggested over the phone.<p>

I was communicating with my headset. "No! We are not gonna film something like that," I rejected, opening the oven door in the kitchen to check on my meatloaf that I've been baking. It was at least half as big as a microwave oven.

"Why not?"

"It so...dark. I don't know. Besides, I'm not sure that it'll get a lot of hits," I said, getting up and setting the meatloaf on the kitchen counter.

"And why is that?"

"Um...hello? Guns? Suicide? Don't ya think its kinda content sensitive?" I reminded, taking off my oven mits.

"Danny, relax. Our web show only consist of adult viewers."

"And how will we take criticism if we receive some from parents?"

"We won't, like I said. Don't worry."

"Look, man. I'll take that in consideration and I maybe make some adjustments and changes to that." Then I took a smell of my meatloaf. So good.

"Alright, you're the director of the week. Oh hey, are you coming to the Christmas Eve dinner and movie tonight?"

"Yeah. Although I don't celebrate it, but I'll be there for the togetherness."

"I COMPLETELY forgot why you can't celebrate...can you tell me once again?"

"Two words. Religious restrictions."

"Oh yeah...you're still coming right?"

"Like I said, I will, 'cause I'm bringing meatloaf."

"Great, dinner and movie starts at eight."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Okay, see ya there."

"Love ya, sis."

"You too, baby bruv." Then we both hung up.

Haha! I got you guys fooled! Heh, you see, the milk thing wasn't a dilemma. Thea was suggesting that for a web show for The Rodent's Gazette's web page. We post funny videos every Friday and we usually get a lot of hits from them. And about the 'sis' and 'baby bro' thing...yeah. You see, since I'm an orphan and all, the Stiltons have adopted me to become one of them. And yes, Professor Philips has signed the child jurisdictions and handed me to the Stiltons. Yes, he's happy about it in case you were asking. But I kept my name. I didn't want to use the name 'Stilton' as a surname.

After I hung up the call, I decided to let my freshly-baked meatloaf to cool on a plate beside another identical meatloaf and went upstairs to my room. To get dressed for the dinner at the Gazette's building.

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><p><strong>7.35 p.m.<strong>

I was rushing down the stairs, putting on my arctic camo winter coat that came with a hoodie. I got back in the kitchen to find out that my meatloaves were then cooled yet warm, but their sweet and savory aroma was still lingering around the house, making me feel hungry. To keep the warmth from escaping, I wrapped the meatloaves with tin foil and put them in a single plate. Next, I wore my slip-proof gloves and lifted them up and got ready to leave the house.

"Um...J-Son, lock the house, keep an eye on the property and uh... Get Ferdinand out to the turntable. I feel like driving him tonight," I commanded my smart home system. You guys do remember J-Son, right?

I took the elevator behind the stairs to the garage, and descended to the lower floor.

The doors opened again, and my vision was pivoted to the car on the main turntable. Ferdinand. He's a Porsche 918 Spyder I bought in October, equipped with the Weissach Package.

A little something about him, he's a hybrid supercar. His rear wheels are powered by a 4.6 liter V8 with added twin-turbochargers for boost, outputting another 100 horsepower from 604, a hybrid module on the rear axle exerting 154 horsepower, and upgraded and more powerful electric motor spinning the front wheels giving out another 100 horsepower from 127, totaling at a wapping 1085 horsepower. He's got 1.62 Gs of lateral grip with his rear wing raised, a braking distance of 100-0 kph in 25.9 meters, a top speed of 243 miles an hour, and an acceleration of 0-62 in 2.3 seconds. Even awesome; he can run on 3000 miles on a full tank of bio-ethanol and another 100 miles on its electric motor, alone.

"Ferdinand! My main man!" I greeted my Porsche as I came out.

"Good evening sir!" Ferdinand answered. He sounded so happy.

"Looks like someone's happy tonight..." I said, approaching him.

"It is Christmas Eve, sir. So, to The Rodent's Gazette, sir?"

"As usual, Ferdinand." I opened the passenger door and let the plate down on the seat, then close it.

"Route?"

"The ten-minute route, please." I hopped into him, and buckled up.

I started his engine, activated the HUD, and all I had to wait for was for Ferdinand finish calculating the route.

"Route calculated. Driving mode: E-Power. Suspension mode: Comfort. Tires: Wets. Autopilot: on. We're set, sir."

"Let's roll..." He drove out, going uphill, then back downhill, then out of the gates. We took the highway to get to downtown faster, and make it in time for the dinner.

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><p><strong>The Rodent's Gazette, Downtown New Mouse City<strong>

**7.50 p.m.**

Finding a parking space was a pain. As soon as the tires rolled into basement parking, vehicles from every Stilton family member had already filled the place. Thea's Bugatti, Geronimo's Cadillac... Looked like I was the last one to arrive. Fortunately, there was a spot for me next to their cars.

I took the elevator up to the halls that lead to Geronimo's office, the place where we held the dinner. I gave a knock on the door, and decided to let myself in.

The moment I pushed the door, everybody gave me such a warm welcome. The the calls of my name from every other Stilton in the office filled my ears, it felt so joyful. Everyone was still gathering around in colorful sweaters, getting food from the buffet table near Geronimo's desk, sitting on the couches, chatting, enjoying hot chocolate, even Trap jammed with Benjamin and Pandora with a guitar. "Am I too late?" I asked.

"No! Come in, Danny! Come in!" Grandpa Shortpaws greeted me.

I shut the door on the way in. "I brought meatloaves. Where should I put these?"

"Let me set them on the buffet table," Benjamin offered a helping paw. He scampered from the far side of the office, getting the plate and brought it to the buffet table as I took off my winter coat and hung it on the coat hanger. Benjamin had turned 14 in October, by the way. So did Pandora.

"Help yourselves to the meatloaf everybody, I made it myself," I offered everymice, walking to the center of the office.

"Maybe we should, it smells delicious!" Benjamin complimented, unwrapping the tin foil.

"Thanks! It's made with love and the meat is one-hundred percent slaughtered and pure kosher lamb. You would not believe how far I went to get that."

"How far did you go to get that?" Thea wondered.

"Do not get me started. I'll just cut to the chase. I had to go back to Malaysia just for slaughtered and kosher meat."

"W-wait," Pandora stammered. "You went back to Malaysia just for meat and returned here? That's why you were gone for two days last week?"

"To my home state, Kelantan, in fact. I visited my family there and returned here the next day. Talk about double jet-lagged... Anyway, guys! Help yourselves! It's my mom's recipe!" They went to check out the two oversized meatloaves. Swarmed in fact... "Speaking of kosher, Grandpa Shortpaws, everything here is kosher, right?"

"Of course!"

"Good! I'm gonna go grab a plate and grab as much food as I can."

"Please!"

"Alright everyone! I'm about to start the movie!" Geronimo announced. "Grab your food, sit somewhere comfortable, on the couches, chairs, the floor, anywhere!"

I was just sitting down on the floor by Thea after getting some food from the buffet table. "What're we watching?" I asked her.

"Jingle All The Way," she answered, fixing her eyes at the flatscreen mounted on the wall beside the buffet table.

"The movie where Arnold Schwarzenegger looks for an action figure for his son?"

"You've seen this one?"

"It used to be aired as late night movies back in Malaysia."

"Okay everyone, settle down," he requested everyone. The murmurs slowly dissolved. "Thank you all, now. Before I roll the movie, I hope you all are enjoying yourself, especially Danny, it's his first holiday he's celebrating with us as a new member of the Stilton family. And, I don't want to speak to long, let's just start." In a countdown, he played the movie.

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><p>You just read a Malk parody. Malk video made by Julian Smith.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2-The Hybrid Twins

**Disclaimer **

**I own nothing but plot and OCs.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

**The Hybrid Twins**

**The Petrol Heads Café, Downtown NMC**

**11.56 p.m.**

The dinner and family night had ended almost an hour ago. Before I left The Rodent's Gazette building and before Geronimo locked up the place, I gave everybody a hug, wishing them happy holidays, and took a group photo of everyone in front of the fireplace.

Ferdinand drove me to The Petrol Heads Café, a café located in the middle of the eatery street of Cuisine Avenue. As the name implies, it's an automotive-themed café, and the interior is decorated with all types of car parts. NASCAR tires on the wall, the rear wing of a GT3 touring car on display at the coffee bar, and one of the tables are even made of a recycled front end of a 1969 Ford Mustang, saved from being crushed in a junkyard. The café is visited by all of New Mouse City's auto enthusiast and racing fans. It's open 24/7, one of the five cafés in the street that opens during the graveyard shift.

There were still a few cars parked on the street outside. An silver Audi R8 V10 Coupe, a white Porsche 911 Carrera S, a red with white striped Shelby GT500 Mustang, and a grey Aston Martin DBS. Ferdinand parked behind the Aston, I shut off his engine and I got out. I told him to keep himself safe while I went inside for some hot coffee.

I pushed the doors towards the inside, and the cold air in blew in as the door was open. I let it close by itself and went to the coffee bar deeper inside the café, blowing hot air into my hands to heat them up. I kept my winter coat on but took the hoodie and gloves off, and climbed on a bar stool while slightly pulling myself up by clamping on the wooden countertop, decorated with varnish. The usual nightshift bartender, Marco, wasn't behind the counter. I knew his behavior because I go here twice a week, usually at this time of night, and it only meant one thing if he wasn't there. He was using the bathroom.

I saw my neighbors who were also the owners of the four cars outside. Named Dominic, Kevin, Bob, and Larry. Larry's married, but still no kids. They occupied the table next to the Mustang table, centering their attention at the TV mounted on top at the center of the bar as they sipped down their hot drinks. "'Sup guys!" I greeted.

"Hey Dan," they all replied, still locking their eyes on the TV.

"Whatcha guys watching?"

"This year's 24 Hours of Le Mans rerun," Dominic, the grey-furred owner of the GT500 Mustang answered, saying 'Le Mans' in a French pronunciation.

"From two weeks ago? Dom! I told you the Audi team won the LMP1 category in first place!"

"That's what I told him and these two!" Larry the brown-furred stated in his Italian accent, somehow sounding like The Scout in Team Fortress 2. It's because the other three mice missed the live broadcast. "They wouldn't believe me, so I ditched my wife at home alone in the bed, and told these guys to meet up here to watch a few hours of the race."

"Boy, Larry, if she knew you were gone again, she'd melt like cheddar over a stove," said the peach-furred Kevin in his redneck accent. Then the three giggled.

"How long have you guys been here?"

"Since ten o' clock," Bob squeaked, scratching the beige fur on his cheek.

Then Marco came out from the restrooms in the back of the café. "Hey Danny! Sorry for disappearing," he said in his mild-tone voice, rushing for the counter door. "Been waiting long?"

"Nah, Marco. I just got here a few seconds ago."

"That's good, now what can I get for ya?" he asked, getting to behind the counter. Marco's kind of a big guy, buff, he's 6 feet 5 inches. Somewhat good-looking; a long snout, blue eyes, light fur like Colette's, neck-length blond hair that curled at the bottom, and he had a goatee on his chin. He's a surfer by day, works out at a gym 3 mornings a week, and works here as the nightshift bartender at the coffee bar from eight at night to one in the morning to make some money. He's one of the known surfers in NMC, winning several competitions in the past year. But, under the skin of this mouse is a kind heart.

"My regular coffee, to keep me up all the way home."

"Coffee at night?"

"You'll never know,"

"One coffee, comin' right up!"

Not a moment too soon, Larry's phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at the caller ID. "Oh, cheese! It's my wife! Excuse me boys, I gotta take this call." He slid his thumb on the screen to answer. "Yes, Debra, honey? No I didn't ditch you! I was...finding myself some sleeping pills. What do you mean fifth time? It's only been the fourth time! Alright, alright, I'm comin' home. Okay, okay. Bye." He hung up. This wasn't the first time he snuck out and left his wife alone.

"Busted!" Bob said. Then we all burst out in one big laugh.

"She's real mad now, huh Larry?" Marco joked, making my coffee behind the counter.

"Shut up, Marco!" Larry scolded without raising an octave, standing up. "You don't have a wife, so you don't know how it is."

"Hey, I'm still 21. Why marry now?"

Larry got hold a loose twenty in his pocket. "Yeah, yeah. Ey, money's on the table. Keep the change," he informed, putting the bill on the table. Then he took a few gulps of his hot coco, then turned to his buddies. "Aight, later guys," he said, walking out then turned to me. "Ciao, Danny. You too, Marco!"

"Drive safe bud!"

Zipping up his winter jacket, he exited the establishment and into the harsh cold of winter. He quickly got into his Audi, started it up and zoomed off.

"Here you go, one fresh mug of joe," Marco said, setting the mug down on the counter. I blew into the mug to help the drink cool a little bit, then slowly sipped down the coffee.

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><p><strong>Hwy 45, 10 miles from home<strong>

**12.11 a.m.**

I finished my coffee ten minutes ago, left some cash on the counter, and headed home through Highway 45, the highway that connected NMC to my house. Ferdinand was still in E-Power driving mode, driving us with his electric motors all the way. The interior neon lights lit up green along the lines of the dashboard and door panels, and the HUD display complemented the lights by also glowing green.

The roads were empty as the whole of Mouse Island was sleeping, well, maybe some shops like that Café and other establishments. Nonetheless, the highway was well lit with the lamp posts shining bright xenon lights over it.

I was calmly unwinding with some music entering my ears. Singing along to the lyrics until...

"Sir, there appears to be two cars behind us. Speed, 185 miles an hour. Distance, about half a mile," reported the self-driving Porsche.

"A hundred and eighty three? Outrageous! Looks like we've got us a couple of street racers. Put yourself to Race Hybrid mode and I'll do the rest," I said, getting ready to drive as I looked at the rear view display.

The V8 engine at the back started up and ran along with the electric motor, the flaps of the front air diffusers at the front bumpers shut, the retractable rear wing raised, and ride height was lowered to just 10 mm of ground clearance. Also being an Interpol agent, I turned on the strobe lights I fitted into Ferdinand in the diffusers, above the windscreen, and in the rear diffusers on the rear bumper. Also, the sirens were turned on.

"Driving mode switched," he informed, shifting down to second gear. "Five seconds till recommended launch."

I set my feet on top of the pedals, about to press the gas during launch. I was ready to return my hands on the wheel, waiting for the right time to disable autopilot. "Three, two, one..." At 'one', my hands grabbed the wheel at a split second, and I floored the gas pedal to the max, releasing Ferdinand to full power like releasing a horse out of a stable. Ferdinand accelerated quick as lightning, catching up to the two cars as soon as they past. The explanation to why the racers were traveling at such speed was because...

The cars weren't street racing cars at all. They were two McLaren P1s in a highway battle. One white, one yellow.

"What the...? McLaren P1s?!" I exclaimed, shifting up. I pressed my thumbs on the wheel to inject some nitrous to the engine to give Ferdinand a boost for five seconds. I can assume that the exhaust tips up top at the back were spitting out blue flames, like most car with nitrous would.

The chase wasn't really that fair, so I decided to call in reinforcements. I contacted NMC Police Department's dispatch through the comlink. "Dispatch, this is Interpol Junior Special Agent Danial Arif, I'm in a Code 3* pursuit on Highway 45, going northbound, suspects vehicles are two McLaren P1s, one yellow, one white, and they appear to be five-ten. I request immediate backup, I repeat, I need sport interceptor vehicles in my twenty."

*a Code 3 pursuit is when you chase someone with your cruiser's lights and sirens on.

"Copy that. Backup will be there in a couple of minutes," said the female dispatch.

I couldn't take two minutes of the chase on my own, so I had to wake someone up. "Ferdinand, get Thea and Geronimo on the phone," I ordered, shifting up into sixth gear. Pushing myself to about 205 miles an hour in a straight line, the two sleeping mice I tried to contact had eventually picked up.

"Hello?" Thea started followed by a yawn, sounding tired and can barely squeak a word.

"Danny? Why are you...yawn...calling at this time of night?" Geronimo asked, being inthe same condition as Thea.

"Hey guy, listen. I really hate to interrupt you during your sleep, but I need some backup," I began.

"What's your situation?" Thea wondered.

"I'm in a Code 3 chase on Highway 45, going northbound. Two McLaren P1s, one yellow, one white, involved in a five-ten**. We are going crazy fast on these snowy and wet roads, I'm talking over two hundred M-P-H."

**510, code for street racing.

"I'm on my way..." Thea agreed.

"I'll be right there..." said Geronimo, conveying the same message.

The barriers split at the long left-curved highway, so I took the opportunity to chase directly behind them and drove Ferdinand to the wrong side of the road.

"Agent Arif, I need an update on your situation, the commissioner wants to know what's going on out there," the dispatch radioed.

"Situation unchanged. Still northbound, driving at two hundred miles an hour," then the pursuit just got a change of gameplay. "Okay, we're slowing down but they ain't stopping. They're getting off the highway, moving westbound towards The Square. I need the backup directed to The Square," I reported, twisting the wheel at the off-ramp.

I never hung up the call I had with Geronimo and Thea, so they must've heard what I said. "You guys got what I said, G? Thea?"

"Eastbound, towards The Square," Thea confirmed.

"Ten-four," Geronimo acknowledged.

The P1s and Ferdinand performed a sideways show by drifting on the off-ramp and slid onto all four lanes on the road, pulling out of it by countersteering hard and controlling the throttle.

We entered the streets, brightly lit by street lights, billboard lights, neons, and some cars that were still running at night like cabs and some late night workers coming home from doing jobs. I had to take the the pursuit slow because the roads were getting narrower every second we drove in deeper into the city.

Then, a sight of help. I glanced into a street as I past by it in speed, and saw some flashing red and blue lights and tones of emergency sirens from two cars, one white and blue and the other totally black. They were Geronimo and Thea, just in the nick of time to join the chase. They drifted out of the one-way street, redlining to deliver maximum torque to the wheels to get themselves out.

They caught up by injecting some nitrous, and we drove together side by side in the not-so-wide road. "Great timing guys," I complimented through the comlink.

"Was that sarcasm?" Geronimo asked feeling somewhat offended as we overtook a yellow cab.

"No...look. There goes the P1s. Two against three, this should be an easy takedown. But don't underestimate them, they look like pros," I advised, still pursuing the cars in the same street. "Plus, I called NMCPD for backup. So it's thirteen against two."

"Exactly when would they arrive?" Thea spoke.

"Sixty seconds...maybe quicker 'cause I called in the Corvettes." Yup, the sport interceptors I requested were actually NMCPD Corvette C7 Stingrays. I cloned, tuned, and converted one of mine into a cop car and cloned that one about a hundred units and donated it to the cops.

The McLarens were one second ahead of us, about 70 meters away. They both turned right into a two-way street just before The City Square's roundabout, the heart of the city. Then I had a strategy plan popping up in my head. "Thea, go cut 'em off at Sundance Lane, Thea and I'll go trap 'em from behind."

"Got it," she replied.

Thea braked and entered Ratterdam Street, a two-lane, one-way street that connected to narrow Sundance Lane while Geronimo and I proceeded to the street that the McLarens cornered into.

We saw them way in front of us, just at the junction when they made a right. "Heads up Thea, they're headed your way," I alarmed her.

"I see them," she squeaked.

"Agent Arif, backup has arrived at your location," the dispatch said. I wondered where they were if they had arrived, then my question was answered when sounds of sirens grouped up and became louder and louder, coming closer to the junction. They were actually sourced from the Corvettes that I requested, driving past us.

"So that's why they took a right," Geronimo summarized.

"Thea, sitrep," I demanded, turning at the junction.

"They're trapped, I'm holding the cars at gunpoint. STEP OUT OF YOUR CARS, NOW!" she shouted to the drivers of the street racers.

We saw the commotion going on as the street was inclined, we saw the cars trapped between the Vettes and Thea, having no chance for them to go anywhere. We stopped behind the cop cars, and joined the officers in holding the racers in gunpoint behind cover of the Corvettes' doors.

I hooked up my chip's signal to the megaphone I installed into Ferdinand. I touched my temple to activate the megaphone. "Drivers in the McLaren P1s, this is Interpol. GET OUT OF YOUR VEHICLES WITH YOUR PAWS UP, NOW!" I shouted, almost blowing up the eardrums out of everyone's ears, including mine.

Despite my orders given, the white P1's brake lights dimmed and the rear wheels burned out, trying to make an escape by sliding past Thea's car through an opening between the street an the sidewalk. The cops started to release a few rounds of, gunfire to the P1, hoping that one will hit the tires.

"CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE!" I ordered the officers. Why? Note that Thea was standing right at the opposite of us, and I didn't want her to get shot again. You know how that went.

The cops stopped, and behind the cloud of tire smoke was just Thea coming out of hiding behind Sebastien's bulletproof doors. As for the white McLaren, he escaped the scene with engine roar echoing off the buildings while the other McLaren driver started to come out with his paws up. He kneeled down and put his paws behind his head in surrender. The officers quickly ran uphill and detained him, cuffing him tight and called for a squad car to bring him in.

Geronimo had a few squeaks to with one of the officers at the scene. "Dispatch sent us here, telling us that one of you Interpol agents called for backup. I mean I know who you guys are, I just wanna know who it was," squeaked the officer to us.

"That would be me," I admitted.

"You? Danial Arif? You called for backup?"

"Eeyup..."

"I'm Officer Corelli Razortail from the Street Racing Intervention Division. Nice meetin' ya," he introduced. He looked like he was in his mid-40s by the way he has a grey beard. Despite that, he was rather slim like the younger officers at the scene. He stood at Geronimo's height, had yellow fur, a scratchy Italian accent that sounded like a retired leader of a mob. "Ey, thanks for the Corvettes. I've never driven anything that fast in my 15 years of career in police."

"No prob, they didn't cost me a nickel," I replied.

Then he turned to Geronimo. "So, uh...Agent Stilton. You want us to help you get him to the HQ?"

"No. Hold him in a lockup cell. We'll interrogate him in the morning at the precinct. If he mentions something regarding about and international crime, then we'll bring him to the HQ for further questioning," the gentlemouse proposed. "And I'd suggest that you canvas the city in a ten mile radius from here and have four cars search at each quadrant."

"Sound like a plan," responded Officer Razortail.

Moments later, one of the NMCPD's Ford Crown Vic had arrived. The rest of the cops put him in the back, and transported him away to lockup until the interrogation in the next day.


	3. Chapter 3-The League

**Disclaimer**

**I own nothing but plot and OCs. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

**'The League'**

**New Mouse City Police Department Precinct, 1 Police Plaza**

**December 25 2013, Christmas Day **

**7.20 a.m.**

I got out of bed as early as 6 in the morning after catching about five and a half hours of sleep, took a hot shower, dressed in my warm and wooly red sweater over a blank white t-shirt and wore a white beanie winter cap to complement my arctic camo winter coat. I put on my black snow boots, zipped up my coat all the way up until the collar covered my mouth, and tied my drop-leg holster laces around my right thigh. Then, I equipped myself with my USP45 pistol, then set off to the precinct where Officer Razortail took the racer.

* * *

><p>I was texting on my phone outside the precinct, sitting on the right fender of Allegra, my Lamborghini Murciélago LP-670-4 SV, while waiting the two other mice that promised to meet up here.<p>

Not a moment too soon, I heard the high-pitched whirring of a superbike's engine coming from the far end of the street. It got louder as it came closer, and it revved down as it got to the precinct. that was actually Thea on her pink Ducati, she parked her bike right beside Allegra then kicked the stand and cutting the engine off. Her apparel was simple and all black, a black leather jacket, a pair of black Alpinestars gloves with knuckle pads, and black winter boots. She took off her pink helmet, the only thing that was _not_ black, and set it on top of the fuel cap.

"G'morning, Thea. Merry Xmas," I greeted.

"G'morning, Dan. And a bah humbug to you too," she replied, sitting on her bike.

"Very funny... Awkward you must feel, on a holiday, you work on," I said, talking like Yoda.

"It's normal. I usually go cover the happenings on this day, like the parade going on at The Square," she responded.

"Who's covering it now while you're here?"

"The backup team. Always the backup team whenever Geronimo and I aren't available to show up."

"Hmm... So, was Geronimo with you?" I asked, hoping that he won't be late.

"I did see his Cadillac on the way here at the stoplight Main Street, cut between traffic and overtook him when the light went green. But, before he even crossed the street, the light already turned red."

"Whoa. Bummer, that's a long wait." The stoplight at Main Street is notorious for having long-period red lights.

"I know, right? Looks like we'll be stuck here for a while...nice car though."

"Thank you Agent Stilton," Allegra interrupted, thanking Thea.

Thea giggled as a response. "You're welcome," she returned. "What's her name?"

"Allegra. She's one of the most cheerful cars I have. Aren't ya?" I referred to the yellow she-beast. "What about the Ducati?"

"His name's Devel. I got him for almost five years."

"Devel? Tehehehe...you name him Devel but painted him pink? Oh, man...you crack me up...no offense..."

"Oh, the appearance doesn't matter... What does though, is that he's fast, nimble, and he got me here on time. Plus, I think is a nice color for him..."

"Good point," I said. "And speaking of 'on time'..." Geronimo and his Cadillac, Terra, pulled up at the parking lot and and stopped inside a parking space.

I was the first one to 'greet' him as he stepped out. "Well, good morning, Mr Punctual..." I started, calling him with a mocking nickname.

"First of all, it wasn't my fault that I was late, okay?" he stated, shutting the door. "The darn traffic light at Main Street did. Someone needs to reset the wait time on that stoplight..." He zipped up his olive green winter coat. "I'll write to the mayor about this."

"Now, ready to interrogate?" I asked.

"Let's go," Thea announced, getting off her bike.

We walked up the steps to the front entrance, followed by pushing the glass front doors of the precinct's entrance. We saw the officer from last night, Officer Razortail, and he saw us. "Good morning, Officer Razortail!" Geronimo started, raising his paw so the officer could notice us.

"Ah! The Interpol agents! Just the people I wanted to see," he responded, approaching the three of us from the deep end of the precinct. "I'm sorry to trouble you guys during a day like this..."

"Not a trouble at all, officer. Plus, I had the backup news team covering the parade at a the Square," he replied.

"Good. So, the guy we caught last night is already in the interrogation room. We tried cracking him last night but he won't talk to us and he's been in there since. He only wants to talk to you guys. Come with me," he invited us to the bullpens of the precinct.

"Have you got his name?" Thea squeaked as we made our way to the interrogation room

"We did, but not at first. He wouldn't spill it out when we asked, but we got some of his fur and sent the sample to the forensics lab for a DNA test. His name's James Hybrid, aged 24. Born here in NMC but he grew up in England and moved back here a few years ago. His rap sheet's already got 2 street racing counts, 4 counts of evasion of police, and 10 excessive speeding counts," the officer explained.

"James Hybrid? It's like I've heard that name before, but where?" Geronimo questioned.

So the officer clarified. "You should, because he was a driver for one of the racing teams that participated in the 2012 FIA GT1 Championship."

Thea then recalls. "Oh, I remember! We did a news article about him in our news. He was accused of sabotaging another team's car."

"And he was banned for life by the FIA from racing in any racing events held by them. I really thought that he was framed, but the judgement has been made so I can't do nothing about it," Geronimo said hopelessly.

We stopped in front of the interrogation room. "Well, he's in there, feel free to extract him of all the info you need," the officer said. We looked onto the glass of the interrogation room, seeing the beige-furred Hybrid in a gloomy state. And he was asleep.

"Very well. I'll interrogate with Thea," Geronimo proposed. "Danny?"

"I'll observe. I'll come in when I think it's necessary," I told.

As I mentioned, I stayed in front of the glass to observe, glimpsing Thea and Geronimo enter. Hybrid responded to the noise of the opening and closing door, lifting his eyelids a little. When he noticed and saw the two figures standing across the room, he reacted like a desperate mouse in his British accent. "Agents! Thank Gouda, you're here..."

"Uh...?" That was Geronimo's response.

"Look, I need your help. I need you to help me get my family back."

Geronimo got intrigued. So he grabbed a chair and sat opposite of hybrid at the table. "Tell me what happened."

"If you remember when I was banned from participating FIA events, it started from there."

"Continue..."

"After the banning, I didn't know what to do. Racing was in my blood. I couldn't resist the urge to drive. My mother and my sister, Joanne, we lived in such a poor home during my ban. We had money troubles; we couldn't pay rent, we sometimes skip meals because we couldn't afford to buy food. But my twin brother? He could afford everything, he has a house of his own, his own supercar...but he wouldn't help us. After doing odd jobs for quite a while, I found the source of his wealthiness. He won money from street racing."

"So you decided to follow in his 'footsteps' and become one too?"

"Yes. I was desperate. My family was starving. _I_ was starving. So I searched for a person who could get me into the races. Luckily, I found someone kind enough to let me borrow one of his fast cars for me. He was a rich mouse, he lent me his Porsche 911 for the race and let me keep it if I won as a reward. I won the midnight race, kept the Porsche and made off with twenty thousand dollars. Sadly, my mother did not approve. She rejected the money, told me to keep it for myself."

"I feel how your mother feels. She feared that you'd become your brother when the FIA banned you. And that fear was realized."

"Exactly, but I did what I had to do to keep us alive! To put food on the table. After that first race, my reputation in underground racing grew. Winning races night after night without even losing my winning streak. I would sometimes transfer a sum of my winnings to my mothers bank account, offering her some help. The others, I collected enough to buy a decent house for myself and my family. But they refused to move in. So I moved on... I was noticed by a mouse who was in an elite underground racing league. Only to be known as 'The League'. They hold races all over the world, and they offered large rewards. So I set off to the first race in the outskirts of New Mouse City, won it, and made enough to purchase a McLaren P1."

"And with that car you won more races and money over the past few months, and put yourself on the top of 'The League', correct?"

"How do you guess so accurate?"

"Remember that I work in the media."

"Oh, right. It was all great until, _he_ called."

"Who?

"He calls himself Black Jack. He told me through the phone that he's captured my family, and he'd kill them if I don't win the money at the New Year's race."

"Hmm...carry on..."

"The said race was to be entered with a qualification. A highway battle."

"That was last night..."

"Yes, and my opponent was sadly my twin brother, Jonas Hybrid."

"That was the driver of the other McLaren you raced?"

"Correct. I told him that our family's captured, but he simply didn't care. He only answered; 'Why would I care for them if they don't for me?' For that is true, my mother loved me more than him. I didn't know what to reply, so I just carried on with the race. I won when I got to the off ramp at Highway 45 first, so I qualified in pole position in the grid with him in second."

"When's the final race being held?"

"New Years Eve. There's still one more qualifying race, and still one racer short. But now that I'm here...sob...I can't save them..." He cried it out, hanging his head in failure. "I'm sorry, mum! Gasp...I'm sorry!"

Thea and Geronimo looked at each other, Geronimo got up and they exited the room, leaving the poor, sad mouse in tears.

The two young mice approached me while still looking at Hybrid. "So, official Interpol case? He did say that 'The League' holds races all over the world," I summarized.

"It's official. But we need to do a background check first to confirm his alibi. If it does, we can't tell the press about this. If this Black Jack mouse sees, he _will_ kill Hybrid's family," Geronimo squeaked factually.

"We've gotta move him to Interpol HQ," Thea suggested.

* * *

><p><strong>Interpol NMC, interrogation room<strong>

**8.47 a.m. **

James was transported to the HQ in an Interpol van that drove around the parade, and we followed closely behind in our cars and Thea's superbike.

He was put in the interrogation room there while all of us came up with a plan in the ops room on how to take down 'The League' and bring in Black Jack while enjoying some hot chocolate at the planing table. By the way, his alibi was confirmed to be true, he lived with his mother and 12-year old sister, Joanne.

"I'll get him to tell me on how to qualify for the New Years race, where will both races be held, and get him to tell us each and every street racer that took part in The League so we can put them behind bars."

"One small detail," I interfered, pointing out a finger. "Why qualify when we could just crash the party and stop the whole thing?"

"We can't because if the race cancels, it means no money for James to give to Black Jack, and what's left of his family dies," Thea reminded.

"And that's why we need to help James win the race. One of us will go undercover into the races, destroy every record in the qualifying round and make it into the final race. The mouse undercover will will help and protect James during the race in any way," Geronimo proposed.

"But who's gonna enter?" I interjected again.

"I think Thea should," Geronimo squeaked up, suggesting his own sister.

"I vote Thea!" I said.

"Me?!" she responded in disbelief, repelling off the table after hearing her name being chosen.

"Yeah! You'd make a great driver! Plus, you're gonna drive the world's fastest convertible," I complimented her, trying to get her spirit boosted.

"Yeah, that I know. But how am I gonna show up when I need to step out of the car? Especially when I'm known on all of Mouse Island?" she emphasized.

"Disguise yourself..." I simply suggested.

"As?"

"I'll figure something out..."

Thea with an annoyed sigh turned to Geronimo. "G, go interrogate," she cued.

He nodded to her words and went straight down to the interrogation room.

* * *

><p><strong>Geronimo's Perspective<strong>

"Agent Stilton, do you agree? Will you help me?" the poor mouse reacted upon sight of me when I opened the door.

I shut the door behind me. "We've agreed. But we need your help as well."

"What do you need?"

I took a seat opposite of him at the table. "Everything you know about the races. Details, routes, racers, everything."

"For the qualifying, it's just pretty straight forward. Bring a car, show up at the meeting spot, sign up, and just cross the finish line first in the rounds of qualifiers. Then you get a place in the 4-car grid."

"That's just it? No specific regulations or rules or, any legislation?"

"Nope..." James confirmed, shaking his head.

"This should be easy... When is it held?"

"Midnight, tonight."

"Route?"

"This race? Along Highway 45. Start at the onramp from north of the city, make your way along the highway to the east, and whoever gets off the highway at the off-ramp to The Square first, wins a round against his or her opponent."

"What about the New Year's race?"

"It's just the same. But the route is different, I really don't know anything about it. They'll explain it before the race starts."

"What about the racers? What do they normally drive?"

"Their cars range from heavily-modified road cars, to super expensive supercars like mine. They drive good, but they rely too much on their cars rather than their driving skills."

"Hmm... Alright. Here's how we'll do it..."

* * *

><p><strong>Thea's house<strong>

**1.07 p.m.**

We had gone back to Thea's after Geronimo explained the plan to James, preparing for the race later in the night. James with permission, left with us in his un-impounded yellow McLaren P1 to show Thea around the course in simulation mode. James and her rode in Sebastien (don't worry, we've told him not to tell people about the weapons and gadgets), while I brought a Ferrari LaFerrari from my garage to race her as an opponent in a joined simulation session.

"Now Agent Stilton, you've seen the course, you've done a speed run that set a record, and you've raced an opponent during the day," James evaluated, idling Sebastien at the starting line while I parked my Ferrari beside them. "But, remember that it's a midnight race. How great will you tackle the course at night?"

I commanded with my chip to set the session to nighttime. The city was now dark, and the only things that lit up the road in the simulation were the rows of street lights aligned at the side of the highway.

"Alright, let's do this," she said, turning on the headlights.

"Both drivers ready?" James asked.

"Ready!" I replied, shouting through my racing helmet.

"Ready..." Thea squeaked.

"Go!"

* * *

><p><strong>11.07 p.m.<strong>

**1 hour till race**

After Thea destroyed me by leaving me behind by three seconds in the race, I fetched the disguise I wanted her to put on to cover her identity the race. I called Pandora to help with some makeup, and I took a trip to the wig shop to get a selection of wigs.

I waited for Thea to finish suiting up at her living room on the couch, watching TV with Geronimo. I had a white Simpsons racing helmet on my right, and a small carry on full of wigs beside the armrest of the couch. It's been half an hour side she's been in her bedroom, and for me, I thought that that was a very long time. I mean, even my late mom gets ready in just 10 minutes.

Finally, Pandora shouted from upstairs . "Geronimo! Danny! She's done!" Pandora announced.

I twisted my body towards my back and peered over the couch's headrest. "Bring her down! I wanna see how she looks like in the outfit!" I shouted back.

They took steps down the stairs until we caught a glimpse of Thea following behind Pandora in the disguise. "Seriously Danny?" she reacted to the disguise I gave her. It was a full white Alpinestars racing suit, complete with gloves and shoes.

Geronimo and I were blown away. "See? I told you, you'd look stunning!" I complemented, emphasizing by extending my arm towards her. Then I grabbed the helmet and handed it to her. "Here, put this on."

She put the helmet on, and it showed no trace of her identity at all. "Now you totally look like The Stig!" I pointed out. Get it? One way of wanting to be unknown is just to dress up from BBC Top Gear's The Stig because he's unknown! The disguise works especially if you're good at driving!

"So that's what helmet was for," Geronimo clarified for himself.

"Yeah, you do kinda look like him," Pandora stated, holding her chin. "Try crossing your arms."

Feeling annoyed, still, she did what Pandora suggested. "Okay, now you definitely look like The Stig. Except the female version," I said. "Oh yeah, wigs are in the carry on. Don't forget about that."

She lifted the carry on onto the coffee table, unzipped it, flung open the front and just rummaged through the pile of multi-colored wigs in the bag. Then I assumed one caught her eye, because she quickly selected it out of the carry on and wore it on her head. "How do I look?" she asked for our opinion. The wig was red in color, it was curly, and it flowed all the way to her back.

At the same time, James was just coming out of the bathroom in the kitchen and came into the living room. "Agents, are we set...whoa!" he squeaked after Thea was in his sight. "I'm sorry Agent Stilton, but I can't help to say that you look absolutely staggering!"

"Thank you...I get that a lot..." She couldn't help herself to stop blushing.

Geronimo who didn't seem to mind the misunderstood street racer's comment, glanced at his watch. "Well, we have to get going if we were to be at the meeting point in time. James, location?"

"Um...we're supposed to meet at the abandoned warehouse at the Industrial Zone near the northern onramp. If we drive fast enough, we might be able to get there in half an hour."

"Let's ride," Geronimo announced. "Danny, you're with me. James, ride with Thea. And...uh... Pandora?"

"I don't mind coming along, I've asked Aunt Patty," she stated.

"O...kay, let's go..."

* * *

><p><strong>Abandoned Warehouse, northern New Mouse City<strong>

**11.48 p.m.**

Nothing was filling up the streets of New Mouse City at this time of night, nothing but us, a few parked cars or rusty beaters that the city council didn't tow away. The sidewalks were blanketed with snow, and more were still being plowed aside from the road by a snowplow. Pandora was fast asleep on the backseat, leaving me and Geronimo awake for the undercover op.

"Well, here we are. The meetup," Geronimo announced as both cars parked at the side of the road opposite to the warehouse. Thee was no sign of a front entrance, but there was a fence and gate beside the warehouse guarded by two mice.

"The entrance is inside the gates. Just drive up there, state your business, and they'll open up," James instructed.

Thea drove out and along the street, passing by the gates. Then, to make her cover convincing enough, she did an illegal screeching 180 u-turn on a double line, and her stunt caught the attention of the guards. She then drives to the gate, wanting to meet the two guards.

With Geronimo's permission, used Terra's gadgets to pick up the live feed from Sebastien's cameras. We watched on multiple holographic screens that centered themselves above the middle console, and primarily watched the feed from Thea's helmet cam. From that, we saw what she saw.

"Remember Thea, you're The Stig. Keep yourself quiet," I advised as she stopped at the gate.

Thea rolled down the window as one of the guards leaned down the window to see her. "You here for the race?" said the guard in a high and squeaky voice. She did nothing and kept her vision to the front.

"Umm...she doesn't really squeak much. And yes, she's here for the race," James answered on her behalf.

"Huh, I've never seen you in any races before. Is she a newbie?" asked the guard to James.

"Yes, yes she is."

"Well, a Bugatti like yours are gonna smoke the cars inside," he commented. "Ay, Paul! We got a newbie here! Open the gate!"

The other guard on the post pushed the sliding gates open with sheer strength because it's frame was made of solid steel, and a layer of zinc was covering it, keeping what was inside a secret.

"Go straight to the back, make a right, then you'll see the entrance on your right. Good luck with your race," wished the guard.

Thea rolled up the window, and drove in when the gate was opened wide enough for her car to fit through. "You do this at every race, James?" asked Thea through her helmet.

"Yes, why?"

"Just curious..."

Geronimo and I watched the front bumper camera feed in anticipation. Thea twisted the wheel to the right, and there it was. The meetup. By the camera feeds, Geronimo and I counted about seven cars and racers were in the warehouse.

She drives her Bugatti into the warehouse. And like any other mice or man's reaction, they we're all frozen on sight of her car. They took out their cellphones and started snapping pictures.

Thea applied the emergency brake and parked Sebastien somewhere near the doorway. Then a mouse from outside slowly approached them. "Stay inside, I'll go talk to the to the organizer," ordered James, taking off his seatbelt.

The unknown black-furred mouse was seen in the camera greeting James. "Ey Hybrid!" the mouse said, fist bumping James. "Watchu doing here, man? I thought you got busted by the cops last night. And who's in the Bugatti?"

"Luckily, someone bailed me out, J-Mac. And the Bugatti, you said this is the final qualifying night, right?"

"Yeah."

"And there's still one more spot left?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"I've someone to fill in that spot. She's a friend and newbie, but she drives real good."

"Gimme her name and I'll sign her up..."

"Her name's The Slick." Don't ask where we thought up with the name.

"Can I see the mouse first?"

"Sure. Slick! Get over here!" James said, turning back to Thea and signaling her to come out.

She stepped out of the Sebastien and came to James's side, crossing her arms. "Whoa-ho! Complete in a racing suit and helmet! Where'd you find her man?" asked J-Mac as 'The Slick' walked to James.

"Honestly, I don't know."

"Sup, Girl!" J-Mac held his paw out to be shaken. Thea, playing as The Stig, stood still and kept crossing her arms. "Wassup with her, man?"

"You see, she doesn't really squeak very much. She's like The Stig, quiet and mysterious. Even I don't know what's under that helmet," James lied, knocking Thea's helmet. Thea, still playing The Stig, did nothing.

"So, the only thing she knows is racing?"

James crossed his arms. "Exactly."

"And she won't respond to anything?"

"There is one. Don't lay a finger on her, or she will do something about it."

J-Mac got curious. Too curious. He raised an eyebrow, raised his paw, and proceed to lay his paw on Thea's shoulder. He was warned, but he didn't really take it seriously. Thea grabbed J-Mac's wrist, twisted it, twirled to his back and restrained his right arm on his back. She then grabs J-Mac by his hair, and slammed his snout on Sebastien's hood. The other racers in the warehouse ooh-ed by her actions.

"I told you not to do that, mate," James concluded. "And she's saying if you ever lay a finger on her again, she'll rip that finger off and feed it to the bobcats in the forest."

"Tell her to get off of me!" J-Mac demanded.

"Get off him, Slick." Thea let him go.

J-Mac got back up and rubbed his agonized wrist. "Alright, I'll sign you up. Race starts in ten minutes."

* * *

><p><strong>10 minutes later<strong>

Thea and her first opponent lined up their cars at the road just a few yards the warehouse, facing the highway's underpass. Meanwhile, James stayed at the warehouse to witness the battle on a laptop, connected it with long-distance Bluetooth and paired it with GoPro cameras attached onto each car.

She was racing a mouse named Donavan Schmidt. His car was a heavily modified and customized Chevrolet Corvette ZR1. It was all blue, had a GT rear wing, widened wheel wells, carbon fiber winglets on each side of the front bumper, a front wing, and the mufflers of the exhaust system was redirected to the side skirts. It also had a decal of a feral scratch at both sides, from the back all the way to the door. Wheels? Nothing complicated, just a set of black 21-inch 5-spoke Enkeis.

There was a flag girl between the two cars, holding a checkered flag to signal the start. All three of us watched from different camera angles in an intense moment when the flag girl raised her left arm for the 'ready' signal.

"You can do this, Thea," I motivated.

"I know I can," she boasted.

The flag girl signaled 'set' by raising her other arm with the flag in her paw. Thea and her rival began to rev their engines up an down to launch at the perfect RPM.

"I'll see you at the other side of the city, boys!" Thea said.

The flag girl threw her arms down, meaning that the race was a...

"GO!" the flag girl yelled.

The Bugatti and the Corvette launched in tire screeches and pops of backfires, and Thea immediately took first place and left the Corvette in its own tire smoke. It was careless how Donovan redlined the car and shifted during launch, doing that resulted in over-torquing the wheels and a slow acceleration.

"GO! GO! GO! Schmidt is burning out!" I informed.

"Ten-four," she responded.

She got to the underpass one second faster than Schmidt, and he was hot on her tail. Thea drifted into the underpass to take the onramp at the right side of traffic while Schmidt being a street racer, took the off-ramp to get on the highway at the wrong side of the road.

"Thea, you and Schmidt are neck and neck*. He's on the other side of the highway," I contacted over the comlink.

_*Neck and neck means side by side._

"I see him," she replied. She shifted her head to glance at her rival. But with both cars being lower that the barrier, the only thing that she and us saw was the high rear wing. "Sebastien's got a top speed advantage and the highway is just slightly curved. His acceleration will slow down when he reaches his top speed."

Then James contacted us with his earpiece. "Agent Arif, bad news. The finish line is the onramp at the other side of the road! If she doesn't cross it there, she won't be qualified for the race!"

"Copy that. Thea, James said you need to take the off-ramp at the other side of the road. Or else you won't qualify," I said.

"Affirmative, I'll switch where the barriers split," she said.

The point where the barriers split was in sight, so Thea applied some nitrous to get ahead and turned the wheel slightly more to the left to change to the wrong side of the road. Instantly, she overtook Schmidt from the outside.

James, Geronimo, and I watched the overtake on Schmidt's Corvette's GoPro from where I hacked into. She was speeding from the other side of the barrier and switched roads with blue flames continuously spitting out the tailpipe as she applied the nitrous.

"Good job, Thea! You got ahead!" I congratulated.

"Now all I have to do now is stay in the lead for five more miles, then I'll be done with the first round," she told.

Which she did. She got to the ramp first and finished with a time of 2 minutes 56 seconds.

It was then half an hour minutes since the first round. Thea just finished the second round versus a Ford GT in a much improved time, 2 minutes 45 seconds.

Another half an hour later, Thea had advanced into the final round. It was her versus Mike Barrett, a driver of a Lamborghini Aventador LP700-4. And she won against him, finished in a time of 2 minutes 40 seconds, claiming the fourth spot in the New Year's Eve race for herself.

We left the scene at 3 in the morning, let the cars drive us to Geronimo's house as he invited us to sleep over his house for the night. We were fast asleep in the living room with after a 20 minute trip, and Geronimo spared us some blankets and pillows for us to use. Thea never bothered to change, she took off her helmet, wig, gloves, and shoes and just claimed the large couch to herself. I let Pandora have the two-seater as a gentleman, James slept sitting on the easy chair, while I slept on the floor between the coffee table and Thea's couch.


	4. Chapter 4-New Year's Race

**A/N: Welcome back! Another chapter brought to you by me, Malaysianpro. I'm sorry for being late. School started, and you know how much work a Malaysian has at school. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

**Disclaimer**

**I own nothing but plot and OCs. Any plagiarized work will be taken into legal action. Seriously. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

**New Year's Race**

**The Rodent's Gazette**

**Friday, December 26, 2013**

**0950 hours**

We were gathered at Geronimo's office to plan for the bust of the New Mouse City racers and how to trap Black Jack right after the New Year's race. The fireplace was lit up, the thermostat's temperature was raised, and I made some hot chocolate from my office for everyone to enjoy. So much for filming our funny shorts...

"...then we'll call in the Street Racing Intervention Division to shut all of them down. Meanwhile, you," Geronimo points at James while standing behind his desk, "...accompanied by us and a SWAT team, go to meet Black Jack face-to-face to paw over the prize money. Then we jump in to make an instant arrest. Is everyone clear?"

"There's one thing I'd like to change. Instead of the SRID, why not call our old friends, the Specters?" I suggested. If you don't remember in the last story, the Specters are an elite team of Interpol drivers from Malaysia who used to call themselves the Wolf Pack and used to work for the Royal Malaysian Police. Details are in my previous story.

"That's actually a great idea," Thea agreed, sitting on Geronimo's desk. "I mean, they are a part of our team, The Crew, right?"

"Thea's right. It _is _a great idea," Geronimo followed. "Danny, do you still have Agent Hussein's number?"

"On my phone...I'll be sitting on the beanbag to make a call," I said.

I sat down on Geronimo's beanbag and took out my new iPhone 5S and scrolled through the contacts list screen, trying to find Hussein's number. If you don't remember, Agent Kamal Hussein in the leader of the Specters. Once a sergeant for the Royal Malaysian Police, he was promoted to an Interpol agent because he was actually a probationary Interpol operative.

I selected his number in the 'H' section, and immediately got his phone ringing. I placed the earpiece to my ear (obviously) and waited for the man to pick up.

"Danny! I haven't seen you in while!" Hussein started after he picked up. "What's shakin' bro?"

"Sup Hussein, haven't seen you in a while too," I replied. "And about what's shakin', we'll get to that. First, how are things? You and Pam good?"

"Yeah, we are."

"Cool... Okay listen. I want you and your team to gather up, book a flight to where I am, 'cause I need your help busting a league of street racers."

"You asked the right man...where are you?"

"New Mouse City."

"New Mouse City? Where the mice live?"

"Not just mice, bro. I'm the first human resident on Mouse Island."

"When?"

"ASAP. As in, right now."

"Alright, I'll see you there."

"I'll be expecting you. And uh...pack some winter clothing." That's when I terminated the call.

As I pressed the 'hang up' button, another phone vibrated and rang the tri-tone notification chime from another pocket. It was from James, he received a text message from someone. He reached into his right pants pocket and took out his iPhone and viewed the message.

"Who is it?" Thea started curiously.

"It's J-Mac, the mouse you wrestled down last night," he answered.

"What'd he send?" Geronimo asked.

"It's a map of New Mouse City, with a red highlighting on the roads."

I quickly jumped of the beanbag. "Let me see!" I demanded.

I stood beside him as he showed the map to me. The highlighting was long; it started off at the west outside of New Mouse City, the rural roads that led to other places in Mouse Island. The line stretched into the city, squiggled through the roads and streets near the edge of the map and it lead to the waterfront. It continued in a straight line through the docks, the lighthouse, the harbor and the New Mouse City Port where my cars burst out their containers a few months ago, then it straightened out with a few minor bends along the east side towards the north, then through the underpass of Highway 45, and it turned left into the winding roads of the forest reserve at upstate, and it ended there. Deep inside the reserve.

Not even a second went by from studying the map, another message came in. "He said it's the route for the New Years race. It's almost twenty miles long!" said James, holding up the phone so the two other mice could see.

"Do you have a strategy for this route?" Geronimo wondered, thinking that the young street racer might know something about the route.

"No. I haven't raced on this route yet. In fact, this one is new. I've never raced a route twenty miles long before," he stated. "I'll text him back to see if he has any strategies..." He spelled a few words by tapping on the letters of the virtual keypad with his thumbs and pressed 'send'. A short wait later, J-Mac replied. "He said: 'it's all up to you.' He means me."

"In that case, we'll provide one. Isn't that right, guys?" I said, referring to Geronimo and Thea.

"I'm...not much of a racing expert. I'm afraid I have to sit this situation out. Maybe you three can prepare a strategy by yourselves?" Geronimo rejected.

"G, didn't I drag you and Trap into a rallying championship a year ago?" Thea stated, hoping that Geronimo had remembered some of the knowledge in that event to be used in the situation.

"The New Mouse City Rallying Championship? Thea, that was rallying. This is street racing which I know nothing about."

Thea let out an annoyed sigh after hearing her brother's excuses. "Dan?"

"Just let me study the photo first," I looked at the photo in detail, seeing some difficult turns, and advantageous straights. "This route is in the difficulty of somewhere between intermediate and hard, though the iPhone's screen is a bit to small to take a closer look."

"I thought your chip enhances your vision...oh cheese!" Thea exclaimed after revealing my secret completely.

"I mean, _I_ can perfectly see the whole thing. But it's you two who are the ones who need the close up," I said.

"What chip?" James asked.

"There's a microchip inside my head. It gives me power to control electronic devices remotely," I briefly explained. "Don't tell anyone else."

He held up his right paw and closed his eyes. "I swear," he vowed.

"Now, if only we had a bigger screen..." I said to myself, looking around the room. Then I spotted the 60-inch flatscreen mounted on the wall on top of the mantle. Plus, on the mantle looked like there was third generation Apple TV.

"G, is that an Apple TV on the mantle?" I asked.

"It is," he answered.

"Is it hooked up to the flatscreen?"

"Yes, it is."

"Alright, let me work my magic." I closed my eyes and placed a finger on my right temple, focusing. I turned the TV on, connected the iPhone to the Apple TV, and sent the photo of the map to the TV.

"There ya go, the map," I presented.

"...I'm astounded..." James said.

"Alright," Thea began, getting off Geronimo's desk. "Let's get strategizing..."

* * *

><p><strong>1010 hours<strong>

After a quite while, Geronimo had eventually joined in our strategizing session when we got to the forest reserve part of the course, in which some of his rallying knowledge was put to good use.

"The twists and tight bends of the forest reserve part could reach hard in difficulty," I summarized. "Because there are no snowplows going through there to rid the dirt road of snow. This could be a problem to your McLaren P1, James, because it's rear wheel drive only. Plus, those Pirelli P Zero Corsa tires you had equipped are only useful for dry and wet surfaces. Not snow."

"And top it all off, Thea's Bugatti has permanent four wheel drive," added Geronimo. "It shouldn't be a problem for her, because she wouldn't be stuck in the snow. Not to mention the off-road driving and suspension mode and the retreadable tires."

James gave out a hopeless sigh and scratched head on top of his long, black, middle-split hair. "What are we going to do? Against all odds, Agent Stilton has the higher success rate of winning the race than me..."

"I wish we could do something about it..." Thea wished.

After a short moment of thinking, I had an idea. And so, I broke the silence in the room. "Hey, why don't you borrow _my_ McLaren P1?"

"_You_ want to lend _me_ one of your cars?" James said, not believing what I had said.

"Yeah! It has bi-turbo, a more powerful electric motor, custom four wheel drive for the snow, nitrous for the straights, and it has all the gadgets Thea's Bugatti has to use for your advantage!" I mentioned. "Plus, it's yellow!"

"But there are the differences between the license plate. You _do_ know that, right?" James said.

"So? Just rip mine off and put yours on!"

"Uh..."

"I'll get him here right away. Thea, you and James go sightseeing at the route in simulation mode while my car drives itself here."

"You heard him, James," Thea called, pulling his wrist as she and James walked out the door.

"Are you sure that the plan will work?" Geronimo wondered.

"Don't worry, it will," I replied.

* * *

><p><strong>Rural roads<strong>, **Westbound**, **outside of New Mouse City**

**December 31, 2013, Race Night/New Year's Eve**

**2355 hours, 5 minutes before New Year**

After much training and practice later, the two undercover racers have successfully completed the route in an excellent time in simulation, and were ready for the real race held at that night.

They set off to the rural areas surrounded by trees and snow in the harsh weather, with Thea as 'The Slick' in her Bugatti and James in my yellow McLaren P1. Meanwhile, nine members of the Specters who had landed in the City about yesterday morning, were standing by near the forest reserve in Corvettes along with Geronimo and I, waiting for the signal to make the bust. As for Specter Nine, we saved him for a special phase later.

At the time of arrival at the starting line of the route, there was no crowd to watch the race start. There were only three cars, an orange Lamborghini Aventador, and a solid white McLaren P1, which belonged James's twin, Jonas Hybrid. The other was actually a pickup truck, a 2013 Ford F-150, parked on the snow at the side of the road.

The two undercover mice lined up the front ends of their cars at the start with James beside Jonas's car at the middle and Thea at the left side of the road. J-Mac who was in the pickup climbed out in his winter coat with his hoodie on, race walking to in front of the cars as he held two GoPros in each paw. He then signals everyone to come out of their cars for briefing, at the same time shivering in the cold. Good thing everyone was wearing warm clothes, and Thea's suit traps in her body heat to keep herself warm.

All four racers were standing at the front of their own cars with the headlights shining behind them, giving them a sight of J-Mac that stood in front of them in the dark, lightless night. "Okay, the race is s-s-simple," J-Mac started, stammering in the cold. "Get through all the ch-ch-checkpoints, s-s-survive, and cross the finish line f-f-first to get the half a million dollars. We'll start at New Year, got that?" Survive meant that we had to survive a surprise obstacle in the race. J-Mac texted James about that two days ago.

"You may have one last year's race, but I'll be taking the five hundred grand this time!" predicted Jonas Hybrid, trying to intimidate James.

"I beg to differ, brother..." James responded, rolling his eyes to see Jonas with his peripheral vision.

Meanwhile, Geronimo and I inside Geronimo's Cadillac watched the race on the camera feeds both from Sebastien and Leland, my McLaren. Not to forget Thea's helmet cam. Currently, our focus was on Thea's cam, listening to the briefing. "Put these GoPros on your car's hoods," J-Mac ordered. He gave each mouse a camera to be stuck on the hood.

"Thea, turn to the other two cars," I ordered as she put the camera on the hood of the car.

She turned her body around very slowly front-facing J-Mac, then stared at the other cars whilst crossing her arms, being Stig-like to not weird out the other racers. "Stay there," I said.

As she was still, I scanned the cars for any modification or upgrades done. But surprisingly, none. They never made any preparations. "Hmm... Everything appears to be stock on the opponent's cars. No snow tires, no turbo or superchargers, no nothing," I analyzed.

"This should be an easy win," Geronimo indicated, underestimating the other racers.

Thea in response squeaked inside her soundproof helmet, equipped with a mic and earpiece. "Don't underestimate, G. These mice are unpredictable."

It was one minute before the race. All have been ordered to hop in their cars by J-Mac, turned on their GoPros and waited inside for another 60 seconds before the starting horn blows.

"Drive mode; Race. Suspension mode; Race. Tires; Wets. Launch Control; on. I'm set," Thea stated after setting up Sebastien for the race.

"I can't find the drivetrain settings," complained James, looking at the HUD to find the option. "Ah, here it is. Four wheel drive; on."

"Nervous much, Thea?" I asked.

"Not as much as James," she replied.

"To be honest, I've never been so nervous in my..." he trailed off. J-Mac came back from his truck with an air horn. He held it up in the air.

"When I blow this horn, the race starts," J-Mac said with his voice muffled by the soundwaves trying to penetrate the glass.

They all heard anyway, and Thea tightened her grip on the steering wheel as everyone started to rev up their engines.

J-Mac counted down with his fingers. He showed three, then two, and at one, James and Thea revved to the max to get a head start during launch.

J-Mac blew the air horn right when the clock's digitized numbers turned to 12, and all of them accelerated away past J-Mac, heading into West New Mouse City. James and Thea quickly took first and second place respectively while Jonas lacking any four wheel drive, fell into last place as the orange Aventador made an easy overtake.

"Happy New Year, guys," I wished to everyone as James and Thea sped through the road.

Roughly 60 seconds later, the four racers drove by the exit to Angorat International and made it to Highway 45 after 3 miles, changing gears as they drafted behind each other past the underpass. With Thea staying behind James to play her role as a blocker, she denied every overtake attempt the two other rivals by swiftly steering left and right to avoid being passed. As they raced to the streets, fireworks explode in the night sky of the city to celebrate the beginning of New Year.

They've made it to the middle of the west side part of the course in 2 minutes after 4 miles, taking the streets at high speed as they drifted, maneuvered carefully and speedily through tight turns at junctions and collecting checkpoints along the way. No mouse was on the street, so no one was hurt because Jonas in his McLaren drove on the sidewalk in a desperate attempt to pass the orange Aventador that annoyed him in the past three miles.

"You're both doing a great job! Keep this up for the rest of the race, and I guarantee that you'll have your family back!" Geronimo motivated the two, mostly James.

In 4 minutes, the four cars and racers covered 8 miles and approached the Waterfront. James and Thea kept their positions in the lead while Jonas was still slugging behind the Aventador. They sped by the docks, zoomed past the lighthouse, throttled along the beach, and made it to the New Mouse City Port in another 6 miles of straight road.

"We have to drive under the cranes to collect the checkpoints," reminded James to Thea as they approached the gates. The cranes were 150 meters apart, and their supporting framework stretched the width of the quay.

"I don't like this, not one bit," Thea squeaked, feeling an intuition. She shouldn't like it, in fact. Because from the three container crane's spreaders were solid steel cargo containers being held on 50 feet high, unsure if they were full of merchandise or empty.

We took J-Mac's squeaks in his text that the race has obstacles, and this one was deadly.

James crashed through the gates as the others tailed him from behind. Just out of nowhere, the spreaders of the first crane that gripped on the container released, letting the 2-ton box of steel free fall on the quay. I made a conclusion in my mind...

The cranes were hijacked.

"FULL THROTTLE! FULL THROTTLE!" I yelled!

Thea and James kicked down the gas pedal and injected some nitrous to avoid being crushed by the container, and James applied some more electricity to the electric motor from the KERS recycled from braking. It was close, but they all managed to escape the falling container, missing by two heights of a Ford GT.

Not for a second the first one slammed onto the quay, a second container was released from the second crane as the racers covered quarter the length between cranes. "There goes a second one!" Geronimo alarmed.

The undercover racers nitro-ed to get through the narrowing gap, and James set off another electric surge from the KERS to the electric motor to aid the nitrous. They were speeding on sixth gear at 195 miles an hour, and shockingly Jonas was at the same speed as well, overtaking the Aventador. I forgot that he was driving a McLaren P1 like mine and James's. And the cars have KERS.

Unfortunately for the driver in the Lamborghini, he fell too far behind. As they cleared through the deadly danger, the container already crashed to the ground. He had to brake before he crashed into it, which he did as seen in the camera feed. Automatically, he was out of the race, classified as a 'DNF' or 'did not finish'.

All three racers that were still in the competition kept the nitrous injecting and the KERS activated for the final container. They only reached halfway at 225 miles an hour when the container released, and that was over the top speed of Jonas's stock McLaren because of the KERS, and it could run out of charged electricity at any second. James and Thea was still building up speed, pulling away from Jonas.

Miraculously, everyone went under the crane in a split second, and it costed Jonas some decreased downforce because his rear retractable wing was broken off when the close-call pass almost fell upon his car.

"GREAT GOUDA! THAT WAS CLOSE!" James screamed as he looked back, going uphill and slightly going left, smashing through another security gate when he and all that followed exited the port.

"Good thing Jonas made it, and a GREAT thing he only lost his rear wing," Thea squeaked.

Geronimo was panting in panic. "Oh...thank Gouda..." he said.

They continued traveling towards the north at the east of New Mouse City. There, it was all flat out straights in the four-lane road with only a few minor short turns. All they had to do then is get to the finish line with James in first, and save James's family.

They neared the forest reserve after 10 miles and 5 minutes later, and this was the final and hardest part. They drove deeper back into the rural areas, getting darker by the second by the lack of street lights. With only headlights still intact and brightly shining what was in front of them, they got to the forest reserve's dirt road entry gate at the left.

"Off-road mode on," James and Thea commanded their cars. Meanwhile, the Specters, Geronimo and I were hiding down the road at a right bend behind a thick line of pine trees, keeping our lights off so we wouldn't be seen.

And with the programming inside the ECU activated, the suspension heightened, the springs stiffened, the shock absorbers dampening rate increased, and finally, the specially engineered, self-retreading Michelin tires set to snow configuration. By the time they got to the gate, the cars finished applying the changes, and were ready to tackle the snowy and dark forest.

James crashed through the gate first as usual and continued to race in the snow and Thea tailed him closely. Jonas on the other hand, had trouble with getting onto the snowy road. His suspension was lowered, therefore having very little ground clearance that risked getting stuck in snow. He eventually got over the problem, but Thea and James had already long gone.

By a half a mile after going through tight hairpins, cutting at corners, taking on jumps, and avoiding snow mounds on the sides, Jonas had astonishingly caught up to the leaders and was only behind by 50 meters.

Jonas met his bad fate when closely following Thea at a right hairpin. As seen on the rear view camera, Jonas didn't properly exit the turn. Instead, he floored it, resulting the wheels to torque excessively as he car over revved. He tried to countersteer hard, but failed to gain control as he oversteered to the right and buried his front end of the McLaren into the mound of snow. He was never seen for the rest of the race after that.

"Jonas is out. I repeat, Jonas Hybrid is out," I informed.

"Affirmative, Black Diamond. James, the race is all yours," Thea said. By the way, Black Diamond was a shared codename for me and Geronimo.

Just 60 seconds later as Geronimo and I was too focused on surveilling the camera feeds, we didn't notice Jonas's nearly crippled McLaren P1 silently driving out the reserve the way he came in. He probably had the full electric mode on, using only the electric motors.

There was still one half mile left, and after they both took a left at a junction that lead to a campsite according to their navigational system which we assumed was the finish line, Thea called us in. "One half miles till finish, ETA, two minutes," she reported.

"Copy that, Slick," I acknowledged. "Big Smoke! It's time to bring the Metamouse around!" That was the air support. For those who don't remember who he is, Big Smoke is Benjamin's codename when he's involved in an Interpol op. Want more details? Check out my previous adventure in the given link.

And pardon me for not mentioning before, but Benjamin was actually involved in this bust as well. "Affirmative, Black Diamond. Coordinates received, speed; three hundred knots. ETA, two minutes," he radioed, commandeering the amphibious aircraft with his Ben Pad as a remote control and with Specter Nine onboard.

"Time to start up Terra, Geronimo. We're going in," I said, hurriedly buckling up our seatbelts. He twisted the key that was in the ignition the while time after he clicked on his belt, while I patched Terra's comlink signal with the Specter's CB radio. "Specters, start your Corvettes. It's time to move."

"Ten-four, Black Diamond," Hussein replied.

We went int the forest, driving at a mediocre speed because the Corvettes were rear wheel drive. The Specters and Geronimo activated their strobe lights and sounded their sirens, following the road where the racers went.

Meanwhile, James and Thea were already at the finish line at the campsite, and with James in first as planned. They were greeted by a group of other cheering underground racers who brought their cars along, spectating the win. There was a campfire in front of them on the snow, lit by firewood and keeping the mice warm. Besides that, J-Mac and his pickup were there too.

'The Slick' and James put a full stop on the race and applied the parking brake, shut down their engines, and stepped out of their cars. Upon walking towards the campfire, J-Mac who returned from the tailgate of his pickup presented James with a black briefcase. "Here you go, Hybrid. You've won the annual New Year's Race for the third time in a row. Here's your prize," said the black-furred mouse in peach winter clothing. He faces the top side of the case to James and loosened the clips, opened it, revealing what was inside.

$500,000. Cash. Fresh $100 bills.

"Five hundred grand...as promised. And Happy New Year," J-Mac continued, slamming down the briefcase shut, locking the clips.

He handed it to James. "Thank you, J-Mac. And Happy New Year to you too," he replied, sounding grateful and relieved.

J-Mac looked at Thea. "Sorry, Slick. Better luck next year..."

She couldn't squeak or do anything but cross her arms.

"Say, why don't you take that helmet off?" J-Mac requested.

She decided to do so. She got a hold of her Simpsons racing helmet and lifted it off her head, exposing her face and her red, flowing hair. She the holds the helmet on her waist.

"Wow! You're hot!" J-Mac reacted.

"Shut up, J-Mac," she rejected the comment in disgust.

"Well, I must be off," James squeaked, looking at the brief case as he carried it. He turned to Thea next. "It was great racing you, Slick," he acted, shaking her paw.

James pulled Thea into a fake hug to whisper something into her ear. She seemed surprised at first, but later she knew his intension. "I'll see you at the meeting point," he whispered.

"Where?"

"I'll call you."

Then the sounds of our sirens being echoed off the trees alerted them of our presence. The cheering crowd instantly toned down. "It's the fuzz!" J-Mac alarmed.

James gave Thea a farewell salute while scampering backwards, then rushed into my McLaren and zoomed away from the campsite by driving along the continuos road that directed him there.

The other mice at the scene were quickly running to their cars in panic, but they were put to a halt as Thea faced them, wielded out a pair of Glock 17 pistols that were strapped under the Velcro belt at her back, and held them at gunpoint. "HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" she ordered. The other mice froze in place as they raised their paws.

Just in time, backup, which was us, showed up on scene, covering any exits by blocking the road with our cars. The Specters came out and cuffed up every street racing mice there, while Geronimo and I brought out a microphone and news camera to get this hot scoop for The Rodents Gazette. Immediately after tossing Thea the mic, Benjamin and Specter Nine flew in and hovered over the campsite with the spotlight of the Metamouse brighting up the place. But in the same time, the rotors blew more cold air into our faces than it did.

"Recording in three, two, one!" I cued.

* * *

><p>After recording Thea reporting the incident with the Specters still cuffing the racers in the background, James rang my cell as I still had the camera on my shoulder. "Hello?" I started, putting the phone on speaker. Geronimo and Thea stood by me to listen to the conversation.<p>

"Agent Arif, it's James. Black Jack called. He told me to meet him under the highway interchange bridge of Highway 45 and Interstate 104." Interstate 104 is an interstate that connected New Mouse City to other Mouse Island's major cities like San Mousisco and Cheddarton.

"Get there. We'll be with you with a SWAT team," I replied. We both hung up, and I gave a worried look on both my stepbrother and sister.

Then I turned my back to face Hussein at the far side of the campsite. "Specter One! Call in for a prisoner transport vehicle. We three will follow the next part of the plan. Thanks for dropping in, by the way!"

"Affirmative! You're welcome!"

I returned to the mice. "Let's to help him," I said.

* * *

><p>AN: We're almost over. Stay tuned...


	5. Chapter 5-A Rude Awakening

**A/N: Hello and welcome back my readers! This will be the final chapter to my second fanfic. Plus, there's a plot twist. I really hope that you had enjoyed this fic, and I'll see y'all in my next fic or crossover. Till then, stay awesome!**

**Disclaimer**

**I own nothing but plot and OCs. Any plagiarized work will be taken to legal action. Seriously. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

**"We're Live In 5,4,3,2!"**

**TV Studio, The Rodent's Gazette**

**Wednesday, January 1, 2014, New Year's Day**

**8.55 a.m., 5 minutes before live news broadcast**

I was waiting for Geronimo and Thea to show up on set while drinking a mug of coffee. I was sitting at the producer's desk behind the cameras, because I was the producer. I locked my eyes on my headset and mic on the desk, blankly daydreaming about things. That was interrupted by Pandora who came to me with a clipboard in her arms.

"Oh hey! I was just about to call you," I began. Pandora was my assistant for the day.

"So, all the blocks and segments are all set, Trap's finally here for the weather, Benjamin's got the Metamouse in the air about five minutes ago for the traffic report, and our special guests are in the lobby," she reported.

"Great. Oh, how's Geronimo and Thea? Are they done practicing their lines?"

"I'll go check..."

"If they are, get them here for their last minute makeup, and get Leo the technician here to do a quick equipment check. I want everything in working condition, the lights, the cameras, the teleprompter, everything."

"Roger that." Then she scampered away to attend her duties.

* * *

><p><strong>1 minute before broadcast<strong>

As the clocked ticked for 9 a.m., everyone in the studio was rushing to get to their assigned stations for the live broadcast to make sure the whole thing runs in good flow.

"Alright! Sixty seconds till broadcast!" I announced from behind the producer's desk. "Cameramice! To your stations! Pandora, fire up the teleprompter! I want all unnecessary personnel off the green screen set! Except the makeup artists," I excluded them as they applied the cosmetics on the two news anchors. "G, Thea, you're good?" I asked, peering over the cameras.

On the set, they responded by raising a thumb as they were puffed by the makeup artists, signaling that they were fine and ready.

I held up the mic from the headset I was wearing closer to my mouth. "Benjamin, you're up once I give you the signal, okay?" I told.

"Affirmative," he acknowledged from inside the Metamouse, piloting the aircraft by remote control above New Mouse City.

"Where are the Specters?" I demanded.

"Over here!" Hussein shouted from the entrance with his team standing behind him, waving. They were all wearing casual.

"Guys! Great!" I said, asking them to come to me. "I need you to sit in the interview set until your segment comes," I directed them, pointing to where the set was.

"Sure," replied the 6-feet tall man. He and his team marched toward the set decorated with Italian furniture.

"And hey," I halted them. "Thanks for coming."

"No prob..." said Hussein.

I returned my attention to the preparation, and looked up at Leo, the technician. "Leo! How's our equipment?" He threw me a thumbs up and a wide smile. "Cameras?"

"Rolling and ready for broadcast," one of them told.

I took a quick glimpse at my watch. "Alright, people! We've got thirty seconds! Makeup artists off the set, fire up the green screens effects and...uh...Pandora, how's the teleprompter?"

"The scrolling rate is set and the words are typed," she squeaked.

"Good," I praised. "Oh! One thing I almost forgot!"

"What?"

"Did the marketing department sent the station manager the ads we were gonna insert?"

"They did."

I sighed out of relief. "That was close. Okay, what's the time?" I glanced at my watch again, seeing the needles showing 15 seconds to 9 in the morning. "Okay everyone! Last minute check!" I said fast and loud. "Lights? Camera?"

"We're all good!" the operators confirmed.

"Newscasters?"

"Ready to roll!" stated the dynamic news duo from the set.

"Alright," I said, looking at my watch while climbing up the stool at the producer's desk, "...silence in the set because we're going live in five, four, three, two!" Leaving the 'one' is mandatory in broadcasting journalism for constant silence.

Through the mini sampling TV on my desk to see if the broadcast was going fine, the opening montage played, and it dissolved away to the studio camera feed when it ended with the music slowly fading away, showing the set and the green screen effects appearing and in high definition, and Thea and Geronimo acting natural in front of the camera.

_**Geronimo: Welcome, good morning, and a happy new year to everyone. I'm Geronimo Stilton.**_

_**Thea: And I'm Thea Stilton. You are now watching The Gazette: News At 9.**_

_**Geronimo: For our top story, (camera B focuses onto him) Interpol has uncovered an international street racing league right here in New Mouse City. Last night at New Year's Eve, an undercover agent was assigned to go in undercover as one of the racers to compete at that night. Shutting down the whole league was the agency's primary objective, so race organizer only to be known as J-Mac was arrested at the finish line for interrogation. **_

"Roll the background visuals," I cued to the visual editors through my mic.

_**Thea's VO: While several other racers from foreign countries were detained in the raid, some were from New Mouse City. The police with cooperation of Interpol impounded their cars which include a Ferrari 458 Italia, a Porsche 911 Turbo and a Ford F-150 pickup truck owned by the organizer, J-Mac. **_

"Play the recording," I cued the editors again. They played the footage that I recorded at the time of the raid.

_**Thea (loudly): I'm here at one of the campgrounds in Pine Woods Forest Reserve at the raid after going undercover. As you can see behind me, the racers are being detained in the cold of winter by, and you're not going to believe this, human Interpol agents who they call themselves as the Specters (zooms into Hussein cuffing a mouse). (Zooms out and focuses on Thea) Other agents that were involved including myself personally contacted them for their aid in this op as they are one of Interpol's elite Pursuit and Tactical teams. Because of this, they are the second human group to visit New Mouse City and Mouse Island. This will be the next biggest thing ever to be added to the history books, next to the first human settler in New Mouse City and Mouse Island, Danial Arif. I'm Thea Stilton reporting for The Gazette, back to the studio**__._

_**Thea (camera A focuses on her): In related news, the informant that helped who also participated in the illegal street race, former and disgraced FIA GT1 driver from New Mouse City, James Hybrid has been unbanned by the FIA. Hybrid was arrested 12 am, Christmas Day for street racing with another racer that got away. He agreed to help Interpol bring down the street racing league in return of saving his mother and 12-year-old sister who was kidnapped by a mysterious mouse. After completing the street race, the kidnapper who was actually one of the opponents in the race, the other racer who got away, and the identical twin brother of Hybrid, Jonas Hybrid, was arrested in a trap planned for his capture. His family is now safe, and here is what made the FIA rethink the decision of banning Hybrid. Our camera crew at the scene of the arrest recorded the confession of Jonas Hybrid framing his twin brother of sabotaging another team's car during the second round of the 2012 FIA GT1 Championship at Circuit Zolder, Belgium.**_

The visual editors knew what they had to do. They rolled the footage during the arrest.

_**Jonas: James (sob), like I said, I wanted to confess to you something.**_

_**James: What is it?**_

_**Jonas: Circuit Zolder, Belgium. April 22, 2012. **_

_**James: The second round of the 2012 FIA GT1 Championship...**_

_**Jonas: James, I did a horrible thing that day. You **_**were** _**framed. It wasn't you who sabotaged the Audi. It was never you. It was **_**me**_**.**_

_**James: What?**_

_**Jonas: I sneaked into the pit lane just before the rolling lap, disguising myself as you. I went to one of your rival team's garage and loosened the lug nuts of both front tires of their car. I knew there was a camera witnessing what I did, and I never bothered to where a mask because I knew if they referred to the footage, they'd blame you.**_

_**James (eyes watering): You? You caused the Audi's tires to fall off during turn one? Why?**_

_**Jonas: Jealousy, James...(sobs)...you graduated Racing Academy when I dropped out before the final year. I was envious of you when I received word that you made it into the FIA GT1... I'm really sorry James...I truly am. Take good care of mum and Joanne while I'm gone. They'll need you.**_

_**Thea's VO: Jonas Hybrid was charged of street racing, and he's awaiting trial for his crime. **_

Trap and his weather forecast was up, and we predicted that snowing will continue on today and the clouds will blanket over New Mouse City, according to our meteorologist. The slot took 15 minutes including 1 ad, then the broadcast was taken over by sports news, reporting that the New Mouse City's soccer team, the Squeakers, had won another game against San Mousisco FC, scoring 2-1. The segment took another 15 minutes to run plus another ad.

After the business slot covered by anchor Samson Chiselfur and the world news slot by Serena Tomahawk that ran for ten minutes, the spared ten minutes was given to the interview session of the second human group to ever visit New Mouse City and Mouse Island, the Specters. The other 5 minutes was for the traffic reports slot.

_**Geronimo (sitting interview set, camera focusing): And today, we have special guests here in the studio for a special interview session. Special, because they are **_**not** _**mice. Today, we have the second group of humans ever to visit New Mouse City and Mouse Island, an elite team of Interpol Special Ops Agents from Malaysia who were involved in the raid mentioned earlier in the show and the 2013 McCarran disaster, please welcome, the Specters! (Camera pans out to capture all of them on screen) Men, welcome to New Mouse City. **_

_**Hussein: Thank you, Geronimo. It's a pleasure to be here. **_

_**Geronimo: You're welcome. Would you like to introduce yourselves first before we start?**_

_**Hussein: Of course! Mice of Mouse Island, I'm Kamal Hussein, 22 years old, leader of the Specters. In my team, I'm the rifleman and shotgunner. **_

_**Kassim: I'm Ahmed Kassim, Hussein's second in command. I'm 23, and I'm a gunner in the team. **_

_**Khalid: The name's Yassir Khalid, 21 years old. Like Kassim, I'm also a gunner.**_

_**Osman: Osman Rafi. Age 20. Gunner. **_

_**Hakim: Abdul Hakim, 23. I'm a gunner. **_

_**Amir: I'm Amir Rafiq. I'm 24 years old, and I'm a rifleman. **_

_**Razak: Adnan Razak. 23 years old, scout. **_

_**Mubarak: I'm Sheikh Mubarak. 22, scout. **_

_**Majid: I'm Adam Majid, aged 21, I'm a sniper. **_

_**Aziz: My name's Malik Aziz, 24. Sniper. **_

_**Geronimo: Now, being the second group of humans to ever set foot on this island, how does it feel? The atmosphere, does it feel different here than being in the outside world?**_

_**Hussein: For starters, it doesn't feel much different than any other country, actually. It feels very much the same, just with all the people are mice. **_

_**Geronimo: Did you feel awkward when you realize that you're the only humans ever to board a flight, fly, and land to a place full of mice?**_

_**Hussein: Well, I did, we all did. I mean, who doesn't? Traveling to a place populated with another form of sentient being, it's like, flying to another planet through outer space to another life-supporting planet with alien species, you get what I mean?**_

_**Geronimo: That is until our special correspondent and the first human resident of New Mouse City, Danial Arif, came to pick you up at the airport before the raid op?**_

_**Hussein: Exactly. He was a relief to our fears. When we were on the plane, I had the wildest thought; will the mice welcome us with open arms? Or will they treat us like alien visitors from outer space? I know my right hand man, Agent Kassim, had the same thought by the way he sat next to me and said; "Boss? Do ya think the mice will accept us with open arms?" I was starting to think that **_**he** _**was alien when I thought that he read my mind.**_

_**Geronimo: (Chuckles) Now, how do you like New Mouse City?**_

_**Hussein: Believe me when I say that I can speak for everyone that we can all agree that we **_**love** _**the city. The mice are nice, they were very welcoming to us, and the air is much cleaner than any other city we've been in. Barely any factories, and most cars we saw on the roads on the way here were hybrid cars. Toyota Priuses, Honda CR-Zs, even a BMW i8. Not a single gas guzzling car in sight. You guys really keep the air here clean. Even during the raid, two of the racers used hybrid supercars, McLaren P1s.**_

_**Geronimo: What's to say? We love our earth... What about the food?**_

_**Kassim: Absolutely divine... We went out for dinner the other day and the fondue was delicious!**_

_**Geronimo: Hmm...looks like we have ourselves some cheese lovers...**_

_**Khalid: Not just cheese, Geronimo. All of us have a passion for all sorts of food. Just one condition to be met before we eat them. Boys?**_

_**Specters (altogether): It has to be halal. **_

_**Geronimo: Good thing all food here is halal, or you'll starve during your stay. **__**Okay, we have info that a few months before when all of you were still serving the Royal Malaysian Police, you were originally called the Wolf Pack. Could you tell us the story of how did you get that name?**_

_**Hussein: Certainly! It started in 2012...a cold night, staking out of an abandoned building a few hundred meters away, waiting for a drug lord to finish a deal with a buyer. When he took off when we started a Code 3 pursuit, we planned to divide and conquer. Agents Kassim, Khalid, Amir, Hakim and I split up to another street to trap him from the front while the rest kept him running. We took him down, and when the police chief saw and heard everything from the dash cam recordings, he gave us praises and commented that we hunt down criminals like a pack of wolves. From that day, I proposed a name for the ten of us to the chief as I suggested that we form a team. The Wolf Pack. **_

_**Geronimo: There you have it, New Mouse City. The story of these ten men and their origins. (Turns to Specters) Next, as of our involvement of the 2013 McCarran disaster, you decided to rename yourselves as the Specters. You use it as of your promotion from normal Interpol agents to special ops agents and you are now primarily assigned to tactical missions. I know why you took the name, but our viewers want to know. Could you tell the them of your side of the story of how it happened?**_

_**Hussein: We remember it like the back of our hands...**_

After telling the 3-minute simplified version of Hussein's side of the story, the telephone lines were open to the viewers for them to ask questions to the Specters.

_**Geronimo: That's the story, viewers. And if you have any questions for our guests, the Specters, the telephone lines are now open. Just call the number at the bottom of your screens, and we will take your question. (Teleprompter flashes name of caller) Oh, it seems that we already have a caller. We have Roselyn Angelfur from the Shopping District on the line...hello Roselyn. **_

_**Roselyn: Hello, and..uh...good morning to Geronimo and also the Specters.**_

_**All: Hello, Roselyn.**_

_**Roselyn: I have a question regarding the McCarran disaster because I was there as a taken hostage. You said that you and your team were there, right?**_

_**Hussein: Yes, we were there.**_

_**Roselyn: Then how come I didn't see you when we were being rescued?**_

_**Hussein: It depends on what terminal you were in.**_

_**Roselyn: I was in Terminal 1.**_

_**Hussein: Well, you clearly did not see me because we were busy taking care of Terminal 2 and 3. We split into two teams. **_

_**Roselyn: That answers it. (Background: You want me to ask another question, Julia?) Alright, that's all. Thanks for the answer and...uh...my sister says hi. (Hangs up)**_

_**Geronimo: Uh...Thank you, Roselyn, for the question. **_

_**Hussein: Awkward...**_

_**Geronimo: Next caller, Julia Angelfur, also from the Shopping District. Good morning, Julia! What would you like to ask these fine men?**_

_**Julia (nervous): Um...hello Specters and Geronimo...I just wanted to ask Agent Hussein...um (Brief silence)**_

_**Hussein: Ask me what, Julia?**_

_**Julia (pressurized): (Quick) ARE YOU SINGLE, THANKS FOR THE ANSWER, BYE (hangs up)**_

The personnel of the set behind the camera was blown away by the question.

_**Specters (except Hussein): Whooooaaaa-ho ho!**_

_**Geronimo (smug): Looks like we have an admirer. So, Agent Hussein? What would you answer?**_

_**Hussein (blushing): (Looks into camera C) Ooooh man...how do I say this... (Takes deep breath) Julia, I'm sorry. I don't mean to break your heart, but, I already have someone to fill the empty spot in my heart. Again, I'm really sorry. **_

_**Geronimo: Our next caller is Simon Ericmouse from Swissville. Hello, Simon. You're on the air. **_

_**Simon: Good morning, Specters. Good morning, Geronimo. I have a question too for the Specters. During the McCarran disaster, you were on scene when Concourse D was demolished to the ground by an unknown explosion, correct? Are you sure that The Technologists' leader, Brazier Williams is nothing left during that explosion?**_

_**Hussein: Yes, I'm sure. Williams has been confirmed to not survive in the blast by the Las Vegas Police Department. The only thing left of him there was his dismembered arm.**_

_**Simon: Are you sure of that? Because I could have sworn that I bumped into him during my trip to Paris for Christmas to my wife's family's place. **_

All of us in the studio were mind-blown. The face of fear was painted on my face as his name sent chills down my spine. I slowly twisted my head towards Pandora, and shot her with a worried look. She shrugged and shot me back with the same reaction. As for the guys on the set, they looked at each other in concern.

_**Geronimo: A-a-are you sure? Wha-what was his appearance?**_

_**Simon: I saw him when I walked under the Eiffel Tower in a black hoodie, had third degree burns on his face, and it looked like he still has both arms intact. I don't mean to alarm you all with Geronimo being part of Interpol and everything, but I might've been seeing things. But just to give y'all a heads up just in case, you know. If anything happens. **_

_**Geronimo: Is there anything else you'd like to squeak?**_

_**Simon: Nope, that's all that I wanted to ask about. Great show, by the way. (Hangs up)**_

_**Geronimo: Uh...thank you...Simon, for calling in. **_

I checked the time, just past the ending of the interview session. I gave Geronimo the throat slashing signal to Geronimo to say that time was up.

_**Geronimo: Well, unfortunately, that's all the time we have for now. Specters, thank you for joining us in the show today. **_

_**Hussein (creeped out): No prob...no prob at all...**_

_**Geronimo (looks into camera D): After this message from our sponsors, we'll have the traffic report with my nephew, Benjamin Stilton.**_

Visual editors ran the ad while the whole team huddled up behind the cameras at my desk, beginning to discuss a plan of action.

"Impossible that he could have survived the Force Maelstrom. If it could bring down a two-story concourse building to the ground, why wasn't he disintegrated in the blast?" Hussein spluttered.

"I don't know. But we've gotta make sure that what the caller said was true," I suggested. "We don't know if he's trying to intimidate us or anything."

"I've a suggestion," Thea chimed in. "We bring him in for questioning. Send a couple of agents to Swissville to pick him up, and we interrogate him."

"Speaking of initiative, I'll phone in the General Secretariat and tell him to get the French Army and Interpol agents to secure all of France and keep a lookout for Williams. That is, if he's even alive," Geronimo planned. "And make sure you have the footage from just now ready, just in case he demands a reason."

"Got it," I acknowledged.

He race-walked out of the studio and to his office down the hall to make some calls.

"Okay, let's not panic," I advised the remaining people. "Whatever happens, everything's gonna be okay. But, there's just one thing I want to say. We gotta brace ourselves for the return of an old enemy."

I checked my watch again to see how much time left till we went live for the traffic reports. A minute left. "Alright, sixty seconds before we go back on air. Thea, time for you to get back on the set. Pandora, go get Geronimo. Specters, stay behind the cameras."

* * *

><p><strong>20 seconds till live broadcast<strong>

Geronimo came back to report what the General Secretariat said in their conversation just before we continued the broadcast. "So, what'd he say?" I asked as I sat at the producer's desk.

"He said that he was watching the show all the way from Lyon, France and he witnessed and listened to the whole call. He was planning immediate action to be taken for France's national security when I called. We can't do anything right now but to hope for a miracle that what Simon stated in his call wasn't true," he hoped, holding his paws on his back.

"And what about Simon? Did you send the agents Thea suggested?"

"I did. He'll be here in an escorted vehicle in two days."

I checked my watch for the tenth time in the past 40 seconds. "Ten seconds, people!" I alerted.

Geronimo saw me etched a petrified look on my face, fearing that Williams had somehow resurrected. He gave me a pat on the back. "Hey," he started, "...it'll be fine. Don't worry."

I put on a faint smile as I shot him with a relaxed look.

Again, I checked my watch. 7 seconds left. "Okay, everyone! Quiet on the set, because we're going live in five, four, three, two!"

_**Thea: Welcome back. For our final segment, here we have my nephew, Benjamin Stilton with the traffic report. Benjamin, take it away. (Screen switches to aerial camera view)**_

_**Benjamin: Today, the traffic rate at The Square is still smooth although lots of cars are out here, and Sundance Lane is starting to get clogged because of a part of the road being closed due to snow clearing. Over at Swiss Lane, traffic is clear and is available to use as an alternative route to whoever is traveling east, especially drivers in Sundance Lane. Meanwhile in Main Street, cars are starting to jam up at the crossroad's stoplights. So better to avoid driving in that street if you're in a rush. I'm proceeding to Highway 45 towards the north, and it looks like the road is flowing like water in a stream. I'm now turning back into the city and headed towards the Industrial Zone, and there's nothing much to report here. Just a few cars driving by as I hover overhead...(sees blue Corvette ZR1 drive by camera's field of vision)...wait a second... Aunt Thea, isn't this the car you raced when you went undercover?**_

We were dumbfounded_**. **_It was the exact same car Thea raced against in the first round of the qualifying races. It was Donovan Schmidt. We gave each other a dumbstruck look.

_**Benjamin: (moves camera further up the street to a crossroad) Uh-oh, one of NMCPD's Corvettes are in the area. (Schmidt runs red light, cop car follows behind) The driver of the blue Vette just ran a red light, and the cop Vette is now in an attempt to pull the blue Vette over. I'm above a hundred feet in altitude and I can hear the sirens being turned on to tell that the blue Vette should stop.**_

"Isn't he in Interpol's wanted list?" I asked Geronimo.

"He's in NMCPD's list, too," Geronimo added, still standing beside me.

_**Benjamin: (Blue ZR1 pulls away) There he goes! He's making a run for it! The cop Vette's chasing him with lights and sirens on. Folks, looks like we have a twist of events.**_

"Benjamin, cut to commercials," I cued through my mic.

_**Benjamin: Uh...we have some squeaks from our sponsors. We'll be right back after these messages**_**. **

I took off my headphones and set them on the desk, quickly thinking of a plan in my head. I called Thea to huddle up as turned my chair around. I even called the Specters in. "Alright, here's what we're gonna do. Pandora, I want you to call the station manager and beg for him to lengthen our schedule to cover this chase," I ordered as she nodded to every word I said. "Also, get the backup anchors to host the show. They're downstairs in their offices. And uh..." I peered over the group and looked around to find the backup producer, "where's Greg? I need him to take my place."

"Over here!" responded the peach-furred mouse from the far side of the set, getting our attention as he scampered at our direction.

"Greg, I need you to broadcast when Pandora gets back here with news saying that the station manager approves of our request. Got it?" Greg nodded by way of acknowledging.

I returned to Pandora. "Pandora, what are you waiting for?"

"Oh, right..." She hurried out of the set, running.

I gave everyone that remained a confident look. "The rest of us? Let's go catch us a street racer. Thea, I'm with you. Geronimo, you lead the pack. Specters, ride in the five cars I lent you from my garage." Readers, FYI, they stayed at my place and rode my cars on the way here for the interview.

"Crew," Geronimo dubbed us as a team, "let's ride."

* * *

><p>We rolled out of the underground parking in a squeal of tires and raced through the city to go after Donovan Schmidt.<p>

"Big Smoke, I need a current fix on Schmidt's location," I requested the mouseling through the comlink of Thea's Bugatti.

"He's on Highway 45, headed towards Interstate 104 with a couple of cop Corvettes on his tail, probably trying to head out of the city," Benjamin reported.

"Will we be able to cut him off if were to take the northeastern onramp?"

"Negative. You'll be right behind him just in time, though."

"Well, better late than never. Guys, lights and sirens on. We're going Code 3," I informed the team.

"Ten-four," everyone replied.

* * *

><p>We reached Highway 45 in no time. Upon climbing up the onramp to the highway, Schmidt's blue Corvette sped by us at 190 miles an hour, followed by a total of 7 NMCPD Corvettes pursuing him. We hit the nitro all the way until we managed to catch up to the chase, overtake the cop Corvettes and draft behind Schmidt's car.<p>

"Pandora, are we on air?" I asked for the broadcast status by calling her phone.

"We are, you guys are on TV," she said. "Benjamin's following you all above the highway."

"Ten-four," I said, terminating the call. "Crew! Look alive! Let's take this guy down!" I announced.

We resumed chasing the street racer, doing whatever we could to stop Schmidt and bring him to custody before anyone could get hurt on the wet roads of winter. As we accelerate away to end this adventure, a new one awaits.

Till next time.

* * *

><p>(<strong>Cars zoom off camera, ending credits roll, ending music plays)<strong>

**Another fanfic ended. Thanks to everyone that supported me, drove me to write this until it finished, and a huge SPECIAL thanks to you, THE READERS! Stay tuned for more adventures!**


	6. Chapter 6-We're Live In 5,4,3,2!

**A/N: Hello and welcome back my readers! This will be the final chapter to my second fanfic. Plus, there's a plot twist. I really hope that you had enjoyed this fic, and I'll see y'all in my next fic or crossover. Till then, stay awesome!**

**Disclaimer**

**I own nothing but plot and OCs. Any plagiarized work will be taken to legal action. Seriously. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

**"We're Live In 5,4,3,2!"**

**TV Studio, The Rodent's Gazette**

**Wednesday, January 1, 2014, New Year's Day**

**8.55 a.m., 5 minutes before live news broadcast**

I was waiting for Geronimo and Thea to show up on set while drinking a mug of coffee. I was sitting at the producer's desk behind the cameras, because I was the producer. I locked my eyes on my headset and mic on the desk, blankly daydreaming about things. That was interrupted by Pandora who came to me with a clipboard in her arms.

"Oh hey! I was just about to call you," I began. Pandora was my assistant for the day.

"So, all the blocks and segments are all set, Trap's finally here for the weather, Benjamin's got the Metamouse in the air about five minutes ago for the traffic report, and our special guests are in the lobby," she reported.

"Great. Oh, how's Geronimo and Thea? Are they done practicing their lines?"

"I'll go check..."

"If they are, get them here for their last minute makeup, and get Leo the technician here to do a quick equipment check. I want everything in working condition, the lights, the cameras, the teleprompter, everything."

"Roger that." Then she scampered away to attend her duties.

* * *

><p><strong>1 minute before broadcast<strong>

As the clocked ticked for 9 a.m., everyone in the studio was rushing to get to their assigned stations for the live broadcast to make sure the whole thing runs in good flow.

"Alright! Sixty seconds till broadcast!" I announced from behind the producer's desk. "Cameramice! To your stations! Pandora, fire up the teleprompter! I want all unnecessary personnel off the green screen set! Except the makeup artists," I excluded them as they applied the cosmetics on the two news anchors. "G, Thea, you're good?" I asked, peering over the cameras.

On the set, they responded by raising a thumb as they were puffed by the makeup artists, signaling that they were fine and ready.

I held up the mic from the headset I was wearing closer to my mouth. "Benjamin, you're up once I give you the signal, okay?" I told.

"Affirmative," he acknowledged from inside the Metamouse, piloting the aircraft by remote control above New Mouse City.

"Where are the Specters?" I demanded.

"Over here!" Hussein shouted from the entrance with his team standing behind him, waving. They were all wearing casual.

"Guys! Great!" I said, asking them to come to me. "I need you to sit in the interview set until your segment comes," I directed them, pointing to where the set was.

"Sure," replied the 6-feet tall man. He and his team marched toward the set decorated with Italian furniture.

"And hey," I halted them. "Thanks for coming."

"No prob..." said Hussein.

I returned my attention to the preparation, and looked up at Leo, the technician. "Leo! How's our equipment?" He threw me a thumbs up and a wide smile. "Cameras?"

"Rolling and ready for broadcast," one of them told.

I took a quick glimpse at my watch. "Alright, people! We've got thirty seconds! Makeup artists off the set, fire up the green screens effects and...uh...Pandora, how's the teleprompter?"

"The scrolling rate is set and the words are typed," she squeaked.

"Good," I praised. "Oh! One thing I almost forgot!"

"What?"

"Did the marketing department sent the station manager the ads we were gonna insert?"

"They did."

I sighed out of relief. "That was close. Okay, what's the time?" I glanced at my watch again, seeing the needles showing 15 seconds to 9 in the morning. "Okay everyone! Last minute check!" I said fast and loud. "Lights? Camera?"

"We're all good!" the operators confirmed.

"Newscasters?"

"Ready to roll!" stated the dynamic news duo from the set.

"Alright," I said, looking at my watch while climbing up the stool at the producer's desk, "...silence in the set because we're going live in five, four, three, two!" Leaving the 'one' is mandatory in broadcasting journalism for constant silence.

Through the mini sampling TV on my desk to see if the broadcast was going fine, the opening montage played, and it dissolved away to the studio camera feed when it ended with the music slowly fading away, showing the set and the green screen effects appearing and in high definition, and Thea and Geronimo acting natural in front of the camera.

_**Geronimo: Welcome, good morning, and a happy new year to everyone. I'm Geronimo Stilton.**_

_**Thea: And I'm Thea Stilton. You are now watching The Gazette: News At 9.**_

_**Geronimo: For our top story, (camera B focuses onto him) Interpol has uncovered an international street racing league right here in New Mouse City. Last night at New Year's Eve, an undercover agent was assigned to go in undercover as one of the racers to compete at that night. Shutting down the whole league was the agency's primary objective, so race organizer only to be known as J-Mac was arrested at the finish line for interrogation. **_

"Roll the background visuals," I cued to the visual editors through my mic.

_**Thea's VO: While several other racers from foreign countries were detained in the raid, some were from New Mouse City. The police with cooperation of Interpol impounded their cars which include a Ferrari 458 Italia, a Porsche 911 Turbo and a Ford F-150 pickup truck owned by the organizer, J-Mac. **_

"Play the recording," I cued the editors again. They played the footage that I recorded at the time of the raid.

_**Thea (loudly): I'm here at one of the campgrounds in Pine Woods Forest Reserve at the raid after going undercover. As you can see behind me, the racers are being detained in the cold of winter by, and you're not going to believe this, human Interpol agents who they call themselves as the Specters (zooms into Hussein cuffing a mouse). (Zooms out and focuses on Thea) Other agents that were involved including myself personally contacted them for their aid in this op as they are one of Interpol's elite Pursuit and Tactical teams. Because of this, they are the second human group to visit New Mouse City and Mouse Island. This will be the next biggest thing ever to be added to the history books, next to the first human settler in New Mouse City and Mouse Island, Danial Arif. I'm Thea Stilton reporting for The Gazette, back to the studio**__._

_**Thea (camera A focuses on her): In related news, the informant that helped who also participated in the illegal street race, former and disgraced FIA GT1 driver from New Mouse City, James Hybrid has been unbanned by the FIA. Hybrid was arrested 12 am, Christmas Day for street racing with another racer that got away. He agreed to help Interpol bring down the street racing league in return of saving his mother and 12-year-old sister who was kidnapped by a mysterious mouse. After completing the street race, the kidnapper who was actually one of the opponents in the race, the other racer who got away, and the identical twin brother of Hybrid, Jonas Hybrid, was arrested in a trap planned for his capture. His family is now safe, and here is what made the FIA rethink the decision of banning Hybrid. Our camera crew at the scene of the arrest recorded the confession of Jonas Hybrid framing his twin brother of sabotaging another team's car during the second round of the 2012 FIA GT1 Championship at Circuit Zolder, Belgium.**_

The visual editors knew what they had to do. They rolled the footage during the arrest.

_**Jonas: James (sob), like I said, I wanted to confess to you something.**_

_**James: What is it?**_

_**Jonas: Circuit Zolder, Belgium. April 22, 2012. **_

_**James: The second round of the 2012 FIA GT1 Championship...**_

_**Jonas: James, I did a horrible thing that day. You **_**were** _**framed. It wasn't you who sabotaged the Audi. It was never you. It was **_**me**_**.**_

_**James: What?**_

_**Jonas: I sneaked into the pit lane just before the rolling lap, disguising myself as you. I went to one of your rival team's garage and loosened the lug nuts of both front tires of their car. I knew there was a camera witnessing what I did, and I never bothered to where a mask because I knew if they referred to the footage, they'd blame you.**_

_**James (eyes watering): You? You caused the Audi's tires to fall off during turn one? Why?**_

_**Jonas: Jealousy, James...(sobs)...you graduated Racing Academy when I dropped out before the final year. I was envious of you when I received word that you made it into the FIA GT1... I'm really sorry James...I truly am. Take good care of mum and Joanne while I'm gone. They'll need you.**_

_**Thea's VO: Jonas Hybrid was charged of street racing, and he's awaiting trial for his crime. **_

Trap and his weather forecast was up, and we predicted that snowing will continue on today and the clouds will blanket over New Mouse City, according to our meteorologist. The slot took 15 minutes including 1 ad, then the broadcast was taken over by sports news, reporting that the New Mouse City's soccer team, the Squeakers, had won another game against San Mousisco FC, scoring 2-1. The segment took another 15 minutes to run plus another ad.

After the business slot covered by anchor Samson Chiselfur and the world news slot by Serena Tomahawk that ran for ten minutes, the spared ten minutes was given to the interview session of the second human group to ever visit New Mouse City and Mouse Island, the Specters. The other 5 minutes was for the traffic reports slot.

_**Geronimo (sitting interview set, camera focusing): And today, we have special guests here in the studio for a special interview session. Special, because they are **_**not** _**mice. Today, we have the second group of humans ever to visit New Mouse City and Mouse Island, an elite team of Interpol Special Ops Agents from Malaysia who were involved in the raid mentioned earlier in the show and the 2013 McCarran disaster, please welcome, the Specters! (Camera pans out to capture all of them on screen) Men, welcome to New Mouse City. **_

_**Hussein: Thank you, Geronimo. It's a pleasure to be here. **_

_**Geronimo: You're welcome. Would you like to introduce yourselves first before we start?**_

_**Hussein: Of course! Mice of Mouse Island, I'm Kamal Hussein, 22 years old, leader of the Specters. In my team, I'm the rifleman and shotgunner. **_

_**Kassim: I'm Ahmed Kassim, Hussein's second in command. I'm 23, and I'm a gunner in the team. **_

_**Khalid: The name's Yassir Khalid, 21 years old. Like Kassim, I'm also a gunner.**_

_**Osman: Osman Rafi. Age 20. Gunner. **_

_**Hakim: Abdul Hakim, 23. I'm a gunner. **_

_**Amir: I'm Amir Rafiq. I'm 24 years old, and I'm a rifleman. **_

_**Razak: Adnan Razak. 23 years old, scout. **_

_**Mubarak: I'm Sheikh Mubarak. 22, scout. **_

_**Majid: I'm Adam Majid, aged 21, I'm a sniper. **_

_**Aziz: My name's Malik Aziz, 24. Sniper. **_

_**Geronimo: Now, being the second group of humans to ever set foot on this island, how does it feel? The atmosphere, does it feel different here than being in the outside world?**_

_**Hussein: For starters, it doesn't feel much different than any other country, actually. It feels very much the same, just with all the people are mice. **_

_**Geronimo: Did you feel awkward when you realize that you're the only humans ever to board a flight, fly, and land to a place full of mice?**_

_**Hussein: Well, I did, we all did. I mean, who doesn't? Traveling to a place populated with another form of sentient being, it's like, flying to another planet through outer space to another life-supporting planet with alien species, you get what I mean?**_

_**Geronimo: That is until our special correspondent and the first human resident of New Mouse City, Danial Arif, came to pick you up at the airport before the raid op?**_

_**Hussein: Exactly. He was a relief to our fears. When we were on the plane, I had the wildest thought; will the mice welcome us with open arms? Or will they treat us like alien visitors from outer space? I know my right hand man, Agent Kassim, had the same thought by the way he sat next to me and said; "Boss? Do ya think the mice will accept us with open arms?" I was starting to think that **_**he** _**was alien when I thought that he read my mind.**_

_**Geronimo: (Chuckles) Now, how do you like New Mouse City?**_

_**Hussein: Believe me when I say that I can speak for everyone that we can all agree that we **_**love** _**the city. The mice are nice, they were very welcoming to us, and the air is much cleaner than any other city we've been in. Barely any factories, and most cars we saw on the roads on the way here were hybrid cars. Toyota Priuses, Honda CR-Zs, even a BMW i8. Not a single gas guzzling car in sight. You guys really keep the air here clean. Even during the raid, two of the racers used hybrid supercars, McLaren P1s.**_

_**Geronimo: What's to say? We love our earth... What about the food?**_

_**Kassim: Absolutely divine... We went out for dinner the other day and the fondue was delicious!**_

_**Geronimo: Hmm...looks like we have ourselves some cheese lovers...**_

_**Khalid: Not just cheese, Geronimo. All of us have a passion for all sorts of food. Just one condition to be met before we eat them. Boys?**_

_**Specters (altogether): It has to be kosher. **_

_**Geronimo: I have to take your word for it, kosher food **_**is** _**good. Okay, we have info that a few months before when all of you were still serving the Royal Malaysian Police, you were originally called the Wolf Pack. Could you tell us the story of how did you get that name?**_

_**Hussein: Certainly! It started in 2012...a cold night, staking out of an abandoned building a few hundred meters away, waiting for a drug lord to finish a deal with a buyer. When he took off when we started a Code 3 pursuit, we planned to divide and conquer. Agents Kassim, Khalid, Amir, Hakim and I split up to another street to trap him from the front while the rest kept him running. We took him down, and when the police chief saw and heard everything from the dash cam recordings, he gave us praises and commented that we hunt down criminals like a pack of wolves. From that day, I proposed a name for the ten of us to the chief as I suggested that we form a team. The Wolf Pack. **_

_**Geronimo: There you have it, New Mouse City. The story of these ten men and their origins. (Turns to Specters) Next, as of our involvement of the 2013 McCarran disaster, you decided to rename yourselves as the Specters. You use it as of your promotion from normal Interpol agents to special ops agents and you are now primarily assigned to tactical missions. I know why you took the name, but our viewers want to know. Could you tell the them of your side of the story of how it happened?**_

_**Hussein: We remember it like the back of our hands...**_

After telling the 3-minute simplified version of Hussein's side of the story, the telephone lines were open to the viewers for them to ask questions to the Specters.

_**Geronimo: That's the story, viewers. And if you have any questions for our guests, the Specters, the telephone lines are now open. Just call the number at the bottom of your screens, and we will take your question. (Teleprompter flashes name of caller) Oh, it seems that we already have a caller. We have Roselyn Angelfur from the Shopping District on the line...hello Roselyn. **_

_**Roselyn: Hello, and..uh...good morning to Geronimo and also the Specters.**_

_**All: Hello, Roselyn.**_

_**Roselyn: I have a question regarding the McCarran disaster because I was there as a taken hostage. You said that you and your team were there, right?**_

_**Hussein: Yes, we were there.**_

_**Roselyn: Then how come I didn't see you when we were being rescued?**_

_**Hussein: It depends on what terminal you were in.**_

_**Roselyn: I was in Terminal 1.**_

_**Hussein: Well, you clearly did not see me because we were busy taking care of Terminal 2 and 3. We split into two teams. **_

_**Roselyn: That answers it. (Background: You want me to ask another question, Julia?) Alright, that's all. Thanks for the answer and...uh...my sister says hi. (Hangs up)**_

_**Geronimo: Uh...Thank you, Roselyn, for the question. **_

_**Hussein: Awkward...**_

_**Geronimo: Next caller, Julia Angelfur, also from the Shopping District. Good morning, Julia! What would you like to ask these fine men?**_

_**Julia (nervous): Um...hello Specters and Geronimo...I just wanted to ask Agent Hussein...um (Brief silence)**_

_**Hussein: Ask me what, Julia?**_

_**Julia (pressurized): (Quick) ARE YOU SINGLE, THANKS FOR THE ANSWER, BYE (hangs up)**_

The personnel of the set behind the camera was blown away by the question.

_**Specters (except Hussein): Whooooaaaa-ho ho!**_

_**Geronimo (smug): Looks like we have an admirer. So, Agent Hussein? What would you answer?**_

_**Hussein (blushing): (Looks into camera C) Ooooh man...how do I say this... (Takes deep breath) Julia, I'm sorry. I don't mean to break your heart, but, I already have someone to fill the empty spot in my heart. Again, I'm really sorry. **_

_**Geronimo: Our next caller is Simon Ericmouse from Swissville. Hello, Simon. You're on the air. **_

_**Simon: Good morning, Specters. Good morning, Geronimo. I have a question too for the Specters. During the McCarran disaster, you were on scene when Concourse D was demolished to the ground by an unknown explosion, correct? Are you sure that The Technologists' leader, Brazier Williams is nothing left during that explosion?**_

_**Hussein: Yes, I'm sure. Williams has been confirmed to not survive in the blast by the Las Vegas Police Department. The only thing left of him there was his dismembered arm.**_

_**Simon: Are you sure of that? Because I could have sworn that I bumped into him during my trip to Paris for Christmas to my wife's family's place. **_

All of us in the studio were mind-blown. The face of fear was painted on my face as his name sent chills down my spine. I slowly twisted my head towards Pandora, and shot her with a worried look. She shrugged and shot me back with the same reaction. As for the guys on the set, they looked at each other in concern.

_**Geronimo: A-a-are you sure? Wha-what was his appearance?**_

_**Simon: I saw him when I walked under the Eiffel Tower in a black hoodie, had third degree burns on his face, and it looked like he still has both arms intact. I don't mean to alarm you all with Geronimo being part of Interpol and everything, but I might've been seeing things. But just to give y'all a heads up just in case, you know. If anything happens. **_

_**Geronimo: Is there anything else you'd like to squeak?**_

_**Simon: Nope, that's all that I wanted to ask about. Great show, by the way. (Hangs up)**_

_**Geronimo: Uh...thank you...Simon, for calling in. **_

I checked the time, just past the ending of the interview session. I gave Geronimo the throat slashing signal to Geronimo to say that time was up.

_**Geronimo: Well, unfortunately, that's all the time we have for now. Specters, thank you for joining us in the show today. **_

_**Hussein (creeped out): No prob...no prob at all...**_

_**Geronimo (looks into camera D): After this message from our sponsors, we'll have the traffic report with my nephew, Benjamin Stilton.**_

Visual editors ran the ad while the whole team huddled up behind the cameras at my desk, beginning to discuss a plan of action.

"Impossible that he could have survived the Force Maelstrom. If it could bring down a two-story concourse building to the ground, why wasn't he disintegrated in the blast?" Hussein spluttered.

"I don't know. But we've gotta make sure that what the caller said was true," I suggested. "We don't know if he's trying to intimidate us or anything."

"I've a suggestion," Thea chimed in. "We bring him in for questioning. Send a couple of agents to Swissville to pick him up, and we interrogate him."

"Speaking of initiative, I'll phone in the General Secretariat and tell him to get the French Army and Interpol agents to secure all of France and keep a lookout for Williams. That is, if he's even alive," Geronimo planned. "And make sure you have the footage from just now ready, just in case he demands a reason."

"Got it," I acknowledged.

He race-walked out of the studio and to his office down the hall to make some calls.

"Okay, let's not panic," I advised the remaining people. "Whatever happens, everything's gonna be okay. But, there's just one thing I want to say. We gotta brace ourselves for the return of an old enemy."

I checked my watch again to see how much time left till we went live for the traffic reports. A minute left. "Alright, sixty seconds before we go back on air. Thea, time for you to get back on the set. Pandora, go get Geronimo. Specters, stay behind the cameras."

* * *

><p><strong>20 seconds till live broadcast<strong>

Geronimo came back to report what the General Secretariat said in their conversation just before we continued the broadcast. "So, what'd he say?" I asked as I sat at the producer's desk.

"He said that he was watching the show all the way from Lyon, France and he witnessed and listened to the whole call. He was planning immediate action to be taken for France's national security when I called. We can't do anything right now but to hope for a miracle that what Simon stated in his call wasn't true," he hoped, holding his paws on his back.

"And what about Simon? Did you send the agents Thea suggested?"

"I did. He'll be here in an escorted vehicle in two days."

I checked my watch for the tenth time in the past 40 seconds. "Ten seconds, people!" I alerted.

Geronimo saw me etched a petrified look on my face, fearing that Williams had somehow resurrected. He gave me a pat on the back. "Hey," he started, "...it'll be fine. Don't worry."

I put on a faint smile as I shot him with a relaxed look.

Again, I checked my watch. 7 seconds left. "Okay, everyone! Quiet on the set, because we're going live in five, four, three, two!"

_**Thea: Welcome back. For our final segment, here we have my nephew, Benjamin Stilton with the traffic report. Benjamin, take it away. (Screen switches to aerial camera view)**_

_**Benjamin: Today, the traffic rate at The Square is still smooth although lots of cars are out here, and Sundance Lane is starting to get clogged because of a part of the road being closed due to snow clearing. Over at Swiss Lane, traffic is clear and is available to use as an alternative route to whoever is traveling east, especially drivers in Sundance Lane. Meanwhile in Main Street, cars are starting to jam up at the crossroad's stoplights. So better to avoid driving in that street if you're in a rush. I'm proceeding to Highway 45 towards the north, and it looks like the road is flowing like water in a stream. I'm now turning back into the city and headed towards the Industrial Zone, and there's nothing much to report here. Just a few cars driving by as I hover overhead...(sees blue Corvette ZR1 drive by camera's field of vision)...wait a second... Aunt Thea, isn't this the car you raced when you went undercover?**_

We were dumbfounded_**. **_It was the exact same car Thea raced against in the first round of the qualifying races. It was Donovan Schmidt. We gave each other a dumbstruck look.

_**Benjamin: (moves camera further up the street to a crossroad) Uh-oh, one of NMCPD's Corvettes are in the area. (Schmidt runs red light, cop car follows behind) The driver of the blue Vette just ran a red light, and the cop Vette is now in an attempt to pull the blue Vette over. I'm above a hundred feet in altitude and I can hear the sirens being turned on to tell that the blue Vette should stop.**_

"Isn't he in Interpol's wanted list?" I asked Geronimo.

"He's in NMCPD's list, too," Geronimo added, still standing beside me.

_**Benjamin: (Blue ZR1 pulls away) There he goes! He's making a run for it! The cop Vette's chasing him with lights and sirens on. Folks, looks like we have a twist of events.**_

"Benjamin, cut to commercials," I cued through my mic.

_**Benjamin: Uh...we have some squeaks from our sponsors. We'll be right back after these messages**_**. **

I took off my headphones and set them on the desk, quickly thinking of a plan in my head. I called Thea to huddle up as turned my chair around. I even called the Specters in. "Alright, here's what we're gonna do. Pandora, I want you to call the station manager and beg for him to lengthen our schedule to cover this chase," I ordered as she nodded to every word I said. "Also, get the backup anchors to host the show. They're downstairs in their offices. And uh..." I peered over the group and looked around to find the backup producer, "where's Greg? I need him to take my place."

"Over here!" responded the peach-furred mouse from the far side of the set, getting our attention as he scampered at our direction.

"Greg, I need you to broadcast when Pandora gets back here with news saying that the station manager approves of our request. Got it?" Greg nodded by way of acknowledging.

I returned to Pandora. "Pandora, what are you waiting for?"

"Oh, right..." She hurried out of the set, running.

I gave everyone that remained a confident look. "The rest of us? Let's go catch us a street racer. Thea, I'm with you. Geronimo, you lead the pack. Specters, ride in the five cars I lent you from my garage." Readers, FYI, they stayed at my place and rode my cars on the way here for the interview.

"Crew," Geronimo dubbed us as a team, "let's ride."

* * *

><p>We rolled out of the underground parking in a squeal of tires and raced through the city to go after Donovan Schmidt.<p>

"Big Smoke, I need a current fix on Schmidt's location," I requested the mouseling through the comlink of Thea's Bugatti.

"He's on Highway 45, headed towards Interstate 104 with a couple of cop Corvettes on his tail, probably trying to head out of the city," Benjamin reported.

"Will we be able to cut him off if were to take the northeastern onramp?"

"Negative. You'll be right behind him just in time, though."

"Well, better late than never. Guys, lights and sirens on. We're going Code 3," I informed the team.

"Ten-four," everyone replied.

* * *

><p>We reached Highway 45 in no time. Upon climbing up the onramp to the highway, Schmidt's blue Corvette sped by us at 190 miles an hour, followed by a total of 7 NMCPD Corvettes pursuing him. We hit the nitro all the way until we managed to catch up to the chase, overtake the cop Corvettes and draft behind Schmidt's car.<p>

"Pandora, are we on air?" I asked for the broadcast status by calling her phone.

"We are, you guys are on TV," she said. "Benjamin's following you all above the highway."

"Ten-four," I said, terminating the call. "Crew! Look alive! Let's take this guy down!" I announced.

We resumed chasing the street racer, doing whatever we could to stop Schmidt and bring him to custody before anyone could get hurt on the wet roads of winter. As we accelerate away to end this adventure, a new one awaits.

Till next time.

* * *

><p>(<strong>Cars zoom off camera, ending credits roll, ending music plays)<strong>

**Another fanfic ended. Thanks to everyone that supported me, drove me to write this until it finished, and a huge SPECIAL thanks to you, THE READERS! Stay tuned for more adventures!**


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